Assassin's Creed: Blood Oath
by WhiteZephyr
Summary: In wake of the second World War, a team of Assassins is eliminated; among them, the Assassin known famously as the "Shadow-Step". Mary MacKenzie, a Scottish-born Assassin, is tasked with bringing an Assassin-hunter believed to be responsible to justice. Joined by Katherine Prince, the Assassins endeavour to find the killer—and survive the deadliest enemy they've ever faced.
1. Prologue

Assassin's Creed:

Blood Oath

Prologue

_**Berlin, Germany, 1938**_

The wind carefully made passage through the darkened skies over Berlin, where the clouds obscured what light the glowing crescent shape above could offer. Lamps had been lit hours ago, and it was nearing the midnight hour, signalling the beginning of the assault.

On a rooftop near the Reichstag building, seven figures dressed in ordinary-looking coats sat idle while they glanced at the hands of their pocket watches. They were dressed in various colours not common amongst the fashion of their countries: two in dark green with gold trim, one in crimson with black trim, three in dark blue with only one amongst them adding red trim, and a figure in traditional white with crimson trim. Of the three in blue, two were men, the other a woman, and she was the one who'd added red to her outfit. The two in dark green were both male, though one was older than the other and sported a pointed beard, and the lady in crimson was still quite young, and had only just passed into adulthood.

The figure in white was a woman, and with her cowl lowered one could see the liquid-gold eyes she sported staring patiently at the ticking clock. And then the hands touched the twelve unanimously, and she snapped the silver metal covering over it and tucked the bauble into her coat.

Each of these people had their coats reaching longer than a typical citizen would wear them, and each ended in coattails. They all had hoods on them, as well, considered menacing if worn in the correct light. That night was considered a perfect night for the cowls that the gathered men and women were pulling over their faces.

The woman in white stood and absently straightened her coat and vest. Her trousers, covered up to the knee by her long leather boots, were a light grey, and could easily conceal the dirt that covered it. Still, out of habit she wiped at them and then rubbed her hands together. She grinned mischievously at the group, who either smirked or merely stared back at her like steadfast gargoyles.

"So, the meeting's begun," she said playfully, with a hint of a British accent. "Shall we cut in?"

The older man in green nodded curtly. "We follow your lead," he affirmed.

"That's what I like to hear." The woman gestured for them to follow, and like birds in flight they raced across the rooftops, slowing only to gauge the next leap or aid their comrade in scaling a smooth wall.

It took the group less than ten minutes to arrive at the Reichstag building, where the meeting was taking place. Guards with the now-familiar red armbands sporting the swastika that Hitler chose personally. Even from her perch, the woman in white could see the familiar glint of a small yet noticeable red cross on the caps of some of the officers patrolling with the common soldiers. She tutted her tongue, then began to scan for an entrance. She considered the troops, tired-looking and bored, and wondered if they couldn't manage a frontal assault.

_Hm..._ She bit her lip. _No. We need the element of surprise. It's our only chance right now. If we fail..._

She cleared her mind and continued to survey the area. Finally, she spotted a particularly high-ranking officer opening a window so he could walk onto a balcony. That was their entrance. She quietly gestured the hole in the building's defences to her team, and they immediately set off for it. They found their way to the ground, crossed the plaza's side like shadows, and scaled the walls into the building. The officer was enjoying a nice nap outside courtesy of one of the men in blue.

They stealthily made their way through the halls, keeping to the shadows and trying to keep their blades in check. The less blood spilled that night the better, but their target was exempt of that thought. Deeper and deeper they trod into the bowels of the Reichstag building, until they discovered the entrance to the secret meeting-place; an old wall with the red-crossed markings of Templar conspiracies in the sub-basement. The elder Assassin in green pressed the cross, and its mechanism soundlessly allowed the door to slide open. The Assassin in white mused that the hinges had been recently oiled, revealing that it was a frequented hotspot by Templars.

As soon as they entered the dimly-lit antechamber, the Assassins split up to find different vantage points for the coming assassination. The Assassin in white remained on the ground floor while others took to the beams above, and still others began scouting the balconies. Already they could hear mumbling at the far end of the tunnels beneath the Reichstag, so they followed it without delay.

They slowed their pace once the noise had increased from a dull murmur to the volume of a normal conversation, albeit the conversation seemed a bit strained. The Assassin in white signalled for the others to take positions, and soon the Assassins had the room, in which their target was, surrounded. He was joined by a man who was not immediately familiar to the Assassin in white, but she saw the crest on his chest and recognized him as an enemy.

Their target, a middle-aged man with both dark hair and eyes was biting his lip as he supported himself against a table in the centre of the room. His moustache was cut short, the same colour as his hair, and his suit was crisp and clean, as if he were ready to address his "adoring" public. On the table lay the Assassins' true objective: a ruddy piece of silver with strange markings carved deep into its metal flesh. From experience, the Assassin in white knew it not to be a mere piece of silver, but something far more terrible and dangerous to all. She gulped at the sight of it.

The man with the Templar cross on his chest gestured to it. "Ford thought it best to be sent to you, Führer," said the man, his gaze focused solely on the man before him. "They were getting too close in America. Besides, in your capable hands, you should do wonders."

"Wonders?" scoffed the target. "Your Order promised me a weapon. I see a piece of silver. This cannot make the war you wish."

"Contrary, Führer. This 'piece of silver' has been on this earth since time immemorial—."

"As are rocks."

"—and harnesses the power to control another's mind. And not just one, Führer; _thousands_. _Millions_."

The target picked up the silver and weighed it. He appeared to be assessing it. The Assassin in white, from her position on the ground, noticed how it pulsed with power and began to glow softly in gold, masking its silver appearance into something far more impressive. Just the sight of it made her stomach churn with unease.

"And when may I use it?"

She signalled for the Assassins, just as the Templar replied:

"Immediately."

The Assassins leapt from the darkness and converged on the Templar and their target with blinding speed. But the moment she had crossed the room, the Assassin in white realized that the Templar had been anticipating—rather, expecting their meddling in the meeting. So he grabbed the Apple of Eden and lifted it above his head.

She heard the screams of her comrades above her own. The agony covered the room like a blanket, leaving only the Templar and their target exposed. Over the intense ringing in her head she managed to look and see three Assassins already dead on the floor, their ears, mouths and noses trickling blood from the overwhelming power created by Those Who Came Before. Another two were dead before she'd even began mourning the three before them.

The last to die was the elder Assassin, who managed to knock the Apple out of the hands of the Templar with a gunshot. But he was dead when the artefact began its flight through the air.

Overcoming her pain, the final Assassin leapt for the Piece of Eden and drew her rapier to defend herself from the Templar's incoming blows. She parried and blocked, and tried to make her way over to the Apple, but the Templar was skilled and battled her intentions with ferocity.

And just as she thought she'd gained the upper-hand in the battle, a gunshot sounded. But the Assassin felt more than heard the bullet that ripped through her back. She hollered and fell, blood pooling around her in droves, but managed to keep on her knees. Gritting her teeth, she slowly rose to stand just as the Templar grabbed her by the neck. There was a second gunshot, that time much closer. Then she understood what had happened: in the chaos, her target had leapt for his gun and shot her, then gave the weapon to the Templar.

Blood pooled from her mouth, staining her teeth crimson, which were grit to suffer through the pain. The Templar shot twice more, once in the stomach and once in the kidney, then paused and dropped her. She was still breathing, but each breath was laboured and strained. The Templar took a moment to himself to right his vest and coat, now stained with her blood, and then fired the last three shots in the revolver, two striking her in the brain.

But what he found most interesting was how she was still breathing.

She was unmoving, certainly, but the Templar assumed not for long. He crouched over her, and was soon joined at the shoulder by Adolf Hitler, who had by then recomposed himself and now stared at the prone Assassin in disbelief. In his hands laid the Apple, pulsating with power.

The Templar handed the empty gun to Adolf and took the device into his hands. He weighed it meticulously, and noted how it glowed more brightly when near the Assassin. The Templar smirked and tapped his fingers against the Apple as he thought, putting the puzzle pieces together in his head.

Finally, Adolf managed to stammer, "W-... What in God's name...?"

"I told you about the Assassins, haven't I?" the Templar asked, barely sparing a glance over his shoulder. "See, not many Templars believe, but years ago there was an Assassin desperate to save his adopted child, who had just drowned by the hand of a jealous ally. That's the part they believe, anyhow."

Hitler gulped. "And the part they don't?"

"The Assassin saved the child, but at a cost which we cannot yet comprehend. Those who do not have the requirements to properly harness the power of the Pieces of Eden are lost to this endeavour."

"... I don't understand."

The Assassin on the ground groaned. The Templar pressed his knee against one of her stomach wounds, which had her hiss and fall back into temporary unconsciousness.

"What do you think it means, Führer?" prompted the Templar. "The Assassin tapped into powers beyond our own. In saving his child... he doomed her. And now..." He put more weight on his knee, ensuring time to complete his statement while the gears worked in his mind. "She lives, and she always will. Now she is tied to the Piece of Eden used to keep her alive. This Apple is not the one, but we can use it."

"Use it how? You just told me we don't have the requirements—."

"I stated that there are those who have no ability to control the Apple, but I did not include myself amongst their ranks, Führer. I have the Sight. I can use the Apple to its greatest extent." He lifted the Apple, and it glowed brighter in his palm, illuminating the darkest corners of the secret chamber. The luminescence extended to the Assassin bodies laying on the ground, no more than lifeless husks. "And I think it's about time the Assassins lost their trump card." He gazed down at the Assassin, who was now fighting to reopen her eyes. "Is that not correct, miss? You tried to exterminate our Order once; we will have the same done to your precious Brotherhood."


	2. The Highlander

Chapter One:

The Highlander

_**Near Maginot Line, Lille, France, 1943**_

Talks echoed through the underground halls of the Assassin Hideout. Talks about the war, the formations and movements of their enemies the Templars, and the recent confirmations of dead allies whose bodies couldn't be recovered. Most Assassins below were dressed as soldiers of their respective countries or those they were spying on. Indeed, it wasn't uncommon to see a German uniform smuggle themselves out of the hideout and onto the battlefield, but the wearer knew the risks, just as a German-born Assassin wearing a Canadian or even a French uniform knew them.

The remainder of the Assassins below wore either civilian garb or the mysterious, personalized robes of the ancient Brotherhood, each topped with the menacing beaked hood that made Templars shake in their boots or fill them with rage, just as their cross did for the Assassins.

Sitting in the make-shift pub in a corner tucked gingerly away from the rest of the busy tables was a young woman with fiery red-orange hair and blue eyes wearing a light grey overcoat with red lapels. Hidden under the coat and strapped to her thighs were two black handguns of British army-issue. Her trousers were dark and only visible to her knees where long boots covered the majority of her legs. Her shirt was white, and she had covered it with a dark vest whose pocket held her watch-on-chain.

But at that particular moment in the pub, with a tankard of beer on the table and her feet up, the woman was looking at the entrance and trying to scrutinize (with only one eye as most of the right side of her face was wrapped in bandages) the arrival of a fairly late Master Assassin. To emphasize his lateness, she glanced at her pocket watch, took a sip of beer, and resumed her door-watching.

Only five minutes later entered the man she was waiting for: Joseph Hall. He was wearing his British Officer uniform, which was kept clean and immaculate as was taught throughout the military, and had his hat tucked carefully under his arm. He was a handsome man in his mid-thirties with dark hair and eyes, but new to his usually clean-cut ensemble was a small bandage on the left corner of his chin. Something had startled his shaving routine. The woman was gladdened by the sight of an average-sized bag that the officer had in his hand.

Hall noticed the woman in the corner and immediately made for her. Once he reached the table, he set his hat on it and the bag on the floor and took his seat with her. Her only movements were to take her feet off the table, which she could tell Hall appreciated more than he'd ever say.

"It's good to see you again, Mary," he said, his hand extending towards her. "Almost like old times, isn't it?"

Mary didn't hesitate to clasp Hall's hand in hers and give it a good shake. She grinned broadly at the man. "Aye, though I dannae remember all these Templars running around like they own the place! A beer, Hall?"

"Whiskey, please. Straight."

Mary rose to get the alcohol from the bar and shortly returned with a glass of straight whiskey. Hall was, of course, from London, and he'd joined the Assassins there. With all available Assassins gathered to fight and all the Mentors keeping safe from the recent events, Joseph Hall was made de facto Mentor of the Assassins while at the front. This, understandably, presented great pressure onto him. He was a Master Assassin capable of many things, but perhaps his loyalties to his country and his duty to the Assassins would eventually tire him before his time. Still, Mary had faith in him. She knew him well.

Mary handed Hall the glass and returned to her own beer. She took a quick chug and then grinned again at Hall. "Och, the beer's warm. Ye took too long, Hall."

"My apologies. I was delayed by my superiors and by the ridiculous favour you asked of me. Speaking of..." Hall reached for the bag and placed it on the table in front of the now-seated Mary. "There you are. You're sure this is what you want for the debt I owe?"

"Hall, I saved yer hide a while back. If it were me I wouldnae even have asked, but I know ye like tae have yer debts paid. And this'll be more helpful than a yocker!"

"A what?"

"A large stone, Hall. Still throwable." Mary opened the bag and removed a belt to go around her waist. Almost immediately she fastened it, removed the thigh-straps where her guns were situated, and transferred the holsters to her new belt. "Och, aye, this is magic!"

"Glad you like it, Mary." Hall finally smiled at her, then took a sip of his whiskey and his face was all business again. "Well then, it's time we talk about your new assignment."

"Aye." Mary sat across from him, her face the very picture of seriousness. "Who's this wee lass ye spoke of in yer letter?"

"Katherine Prince, a young American Assassin. By no means a Master Assassin, actually. Her brothers, however, were nearly there."

"Brothers?"

Hall nodded solemnly. "Nathaniel and Henry Prince. They were killed in action three years ago while trying to find leads on possible Pieces of Eden the Templars may have."

"If yer laddies were near their mastery, someone of better skill targeted them."

"Indeed. Whomever killed them had a magnitude of weaponry and skill to kill them head-on. Although, from the evidence we gathered three years ago, a sneak attack was certainly attempted."

"By?"

"The brothers Prince. It failed, obviously."

"So about the lass?"

"Katherine has since been working hard in the American branch of Assassins to be sent here and avenge the deaths of her brothers."

Mary scoffed at that. "How? By winning the damn war all by her radge self?"

"She intends to find the one who killed her brothers." Hall hooked a finger at his collar, though Mary noticed no perspiration or redness upon him. "We... also discovered that your particular incident was connected with this."

Mary, almost automatically, reached one of her hands up and touched the bandage on her face. "How?" she asked a bit quietly.

Hall, of course, knew Mary to be a woman of action, not of remorse. But he understood her nearly instant change in demeanour and continued solemnly, "The one who killed Nathaniel and Henry was also the one who recently struck at Edinburgh."

"Och... aye..." Mary had hardly given her home's name a thought before she was focusing all her attention on Hall again. "So this Prince wants tae kill the Assassin-hunter?"

"Correct. And she needs guidance. I know your connection and want you to spearhead this witch-hunt for the hunter, because I know you'll take into consideration their skills and the dangers. If Katherine Prince was allowed to do this alone she'd follow her brothers in death, and nothing would be gained from this." Hall paused. "I know some people have been considering you something of a spiritual successor—."

"Hall," interrupted the woman, "I'll take care of Prince and try tae kill the Assassin-hunter, but dannae mention tae that quine any of that. Nothing. Ye understand?"

The man nodded, finished his whiskey and grabbed his hat. Then he stood.

"She's here now," Hall stated. "Would you follow me? She's fairly eager to begin."

"I cannae wait." Mary finished her beer in a single and fairly impressive gulp, to which Hall raised an eyebrow. But she rolled her eyes at him. "Dannae worry. I'm not blootered."

"I'll take your word for it."

Hall led Mary through the underground base until they reached a small office that served as Hall's headquarters. His desk was piled high with papers—reports of enemy movements, no doubt—and his normally clean floor was strewn with battle reports. Leaning against one of the two chairs facing the desk was a young woman with lightly-coloured brown hair and equally light eyes. Her white hood was lowered and resting on the back of her brown overcoat, which extended into pronged coattails behind her. Her hood was connected to a coat with buttons on either side of her chest trailing down to her abdomen, which was no doubt an heirloom of the Great War, and made to fit her after the use of a male counterpart. Her father's, Mary guessed. Her trousers were a dark olive colour and extended into leather gaiters that covered black shoes that were worn from training, which was typical of climbing brick buildings.

Mary, of course, noticed that Katherine's eyes were examining her, also, and she didn't seem certain of what she was seeing. Unlike Hall, her eyes lingered on the bandages on Mary's face, but when she saw Mary didn't look away—it was the young Katherine who did from the eye contact.

"Miss Katherine Prince," said Hall as he gestured to Mary, "this is going to be your partner for the duration of your stay in Europe and otherwise."

Mary extended her arm, and Katherine met her halfway. The older woman noted the slight bulge under Katherine's coat on her right bicep. She was wearing something underneath that wasn't exactly subtle. "Mary MacKenzie of Edinburgh," the Highlander offered.

"Katherine Prince of Bradford, Pennsylvania." And then the pleasantries were done. Katherine turned to Hall. "I thought I'd be pursuing the Assassin-hunter myself."

Hall, always the voice of reason, chided, "The Assassin-hunter has killed a fair amount of Assassins. We absolutely must keep two or more Assassins together at all times now, whenever we're pursuing our own ends rather than trying to keep Churchill in line with a voice of reason."

"Churchill's a puppet of the Templars," stated Katherine. "He's got Templar reasoning."

"Aye, but there's always a politician searching for some other way of gaining power and favour. After this war, Churchill will be looking for favour with his people, not the power Templars are offering." Mary's interjection brought Katherine's attention back onto her. "We need tae find the root of the problem."

"The only problem I'm here to solve is the one this murderer has posed." Katherine stood. "If you're to be my partner, I suggest we get on the same page."

"Och, aye, I agree very much, Miss Prince," said the Highlander, "but I doubt ye'll like the page I want tae stay on and I have my doubts ye'll want tae jump ship from yer own, lassie."

"You're correct, Miss MacKenzie."

"Just Mary, if ye will."

Hall had already crossed the room and sat heavily behind his desk. His hat was sitting atop a pile of papers and telegrams. "Miss Prince, this is the situation: Mary is your partner, but she will be in charge of all operations regarding the Assassin-hunter. Every mission is hers to decide as well as the best time to strike. She is not training you nor is she seeking to, but you'll very much be like an understudy to her. Her orders are commands and you will follow them without question. Are we clear?"

It appeared it was not. "You expect me to be an understudy for a mission I've been requesting for years?!"

"Yes, I do. You're not the only Assassin with a grudge against this Templar idealist. Many Assassins have lost friends, brothers, sisters... Your pain is shared by the Assassins. You're being paired with someone who also feels this, but knows how to harness it and direct it, as well as keep it under wraps. You're still young and therefore it is understandable that you can be brash, but we don't need another life lost based on poor choices." Hall leaned forward and rested his head in his hands. "I trust Mary, and I know she'll do right by you. She values the opinions of others and she understands what you're going through. Look to her for guidance, but also realize that you two are equals."

Katherine's hands balled into fists, but if Hall noticed he said nothing of her frustrations.

"You two may begin whenever you wish. The last known location of the Assassin-hunter has been left in the archives. Mary, you know where it is. Use the archives as your base of operations for now. Hopefully we won't be moving from this line for another few months."

Mary nodded to Hall. "We'll begin immediately, Hall. I'll let ye know of our progress hoora soon."

Confusion clouded Katherine's gaze as Mary turned and strode out of the room. She followed soon enough, trying to keep up with Mary's pace as they ventured further from the pub and Hall's office, and finally into a quiet, almost peaceful area of the base. The archive's room was stocked full of books, reports, newspapers, encyclopaedias, and all for the use of the Assassins and their research, but mostly to try and discover the location of a Piece of Eden.

"Cozy place, int it?" asked Mary as she gravitated towards the cabinet of alcohol.

Katherine was perusing it with a keen and fairly observant eye. Mary had expected no less, due to Katherine's examining of her earlier. Katherine found her way to a large shelf full of history books on the eighteenth century and began reading the spines.

Mary, meantime, had poured two glasses of Italian wine and approached Katherine with them.

"Barbesco," said Mary as she handed a glass over to Katherine. "Italian wine of this year. I'd give ye something better, but it's all the Italian Assassin teuchters have a taste for. That's a sin, if ye ask me." While Katherine looked at the alcohol in her glass, Mary continued, "I thought we could toast our partnership, lass. We'll bring that scunner down, aye?"

Katherine half-heartedly lifted the glass to meet Mary's, and while Mary finished her drink in a single fell gulp, Katherine took her time with small sips. Then the American watched as Mary began filing through documents and comparing them to a map with dozens of strings and tacks—a map of Europe.

"What's the plan?" asked Katherine as she approached the map.

Mary grinned and gestured to part of the German Empire. "I say we follow yer brothers' trail. This report says the laddies fell in Vienna. So, we go behind enemy lines and see if they tried tae send anything before they were killed."

"And if they did?"

"Hall said someone attempted a sneak attack before the brothers died," Mary explained. "We need tae figure oot who it was and if they left anything concrete." The Highlander glanced at Katherine. "But dannae clart it, lassie. Evidence can be a swick, too."

Katherine halted. "W-What the hell're you saying?!"

"Och!" exclaimed Mary. "Sorry, lass! I mean dannae put all yer chips in the pot yet. I dannae trust the evidence until I have something tae back it up nice and proper, aye?"

That seemed to clarify. "Oh... All right. When do we leave?"

"When did ye get here, lassie?"

"A few hours ago."

"Unpacked?"

"Yes."

"Then ye'd better pack it up again, Miss Prince. We're leaving the morn's morn." Katherine would again ask what Mary meant, and Mary, ever patient, would reply, "Tomorrow morning, lass."


	3. Twenty Questions

Chapter Two:

Twenty Questions

_**Near Zürich, German Empire, 1943**_

The Assassins had spared two West Germany passes for Mary MacKenzie and her new companion Katherine Prince, which would allow the two Assassins passage through the German Empire and into what was once Austria, where Vienna was situated. The war-torn German-occupied city was once the capital of Austria, but that title was taken when Austria was, and now the Austrian people had to accept Berlin alone as their capital. Dissent and anger ran rampant through its ancient streets, but it was kept sternly in line by German forces with the power of their weapons and the threats that a concentration camp would pose.

Within the city they would eventually search for traces and clues of the locations and temporary camps that were utilized by the brothers Prince. Until then, Mary and Katherine were stuck on a train to Vienna with checkpoints at every stop. It was not the first time Mary had been through such ordeals, but it was indeed Katherine's first time, as she'd come by ship from the United States to Britain, and from there to the Maginot Line in France. She encountered very little resistance in her arrival, so Mary coached her through everything as they progressed. Thankfully, Katherine, like several others in America, had been coached in the German language as a part of their schooling. It was still considered the second language in America, after all, though Mary assumed the end of the war would have America reconsider, no matter the outcome.

But while the checkpoints continued to run smoothly, conversation did not. Katherine, young and brash, still had some very strong opinions about Mary's taking the lead on the mission Katherine had believed she'd be conducting alone, although Mary knew Katherine held no complaints yet about her decision to make for Vienna. In fact, Mary believed Katherine desired to go there and see where her loved ones had made their final stand. If they had the luxury of time, Mary hoped that they could.

Disguised in dresses of the period rather than their Assassin robes, it was fairly clear Mary wouldn't be hiding her bandages at all, though her story seemed to be accepted among the German troops and train conductor: that a train she'd been on had been bombed, and while scarred, she'd survived. Of course, this was a topic of conversation Katherine wished to pursue, though she was unsure of the amount of time she would need to know Mary to ask, and she tried to be polite about it, but Mary noticed nonetheless. Still, surrounded by other train patrons and soldiers was no place to ask.

Mary had herself and Katherine disembark at Munich with their luggage so they could stowaway on the next train, since their passes wouldn't take them as far as Vienna. Once changed, they had their luggage unwittingly packed by a worker into the train they'd chosen, and they took car to memorize the car it was in. Then they waited for the train further up the rails, and when it began to pick up speed as it left the station, Mary and Katherine leapt from nearby trees and onto the roof of the train cars. Once the two located where their luggage was stored, they opened the hatch and lowered themselves into the car. They waited a while until they felt they were safe to relax, then Mary flopped onto a pile of soft suitcases and lowered the grey hood that was a part of her overcoat.

Katherine sat cross-legged on the floor and watched her partner as Mary closed her eyes, her hands clasped on top of her belly. If Katherine didn't consider the suitcases Mary was about to nap on, she felt Mary could have been the picture of comfort and contentment.

"How old are you, Mary?" asked Katherine in hopes to stimulate some conversation.

Mary opened her only visible eye and smirked at the American. "I'm thirty-three, Miss Prince. And yerself?"

"Twenty-four."

"Och, a young-un."

"I'm not much younger than yourself, Mary."

"I suppose not..." Mary closed her eyes again. "Still. Dannae think yer a bit young tae be oot like this?"

"Soldiers are younger than I."

The Highlander turned her mouth downward, but not in a negative way. Rather, her eyebrows went up. "Impressive retort, lassie. Ye've been doing yer homework."

"Everyone knows the age men can become soldiers. I am a soldier as well, in my own way."

"Aye, I suppose, Miss Prince."

Silence once more hung over the two like the bombs of war, somehow louder though. Once again, Katherine was unnerved by it, but Mary was the one to initiate conversation then, considering she found it only fair.

"What's Bradford, Pennsylvania like, lassie?" she asked.

"Oh?" Katherine shrugged, unsure. "It's... nice. I don't know how to properly... Well, it's booming. There's a big oil thing around there. Lots of people looking for work if they can't fight..."

"Assassin presence?"

Katherine nodded. "Yes. My mother and father own a small oil company down there and run the Assassins from it. Funding, contracts, and the like."

"Och, sounds like magic."

"It's not magical at all."

Mary rolled her eyes. "Not 'magic' magic, lassie! My sort of magic!"

"And what kind would that be...?"

Sighing, Mary replied. "It means 'great'."

"Oh."

"Ach, dannae get discouraged, ye wee sook. I just happened tae slip back into my old accent a while back and I forgot most of my 'properness'."

Mary noticed how Katherine's left hand went to her right bicep, where there was a bulge beneath her dusty brown overcoat. Mary raised an eyebrow at it.

"Ye've got something underneath, aye?"

Katherine seemed to realize her autonomous movement and nodded, then she shrugged her overcoat off and rolled her sleeve up to showcase it. Made of shiny gold, the armband was shaped like a viper and coiled delicately over her skin. Its eyes were made of rubies, and on top of its head was the symbol of the Brotherhood, although with a distinct Egyptian flare to it.

"This was my mother's," she explained. "And my mother's mother's. And it continues on until the fifteenth century." She tapped it lovingly. Clearly it was of great importance to her. "It means that I've proven myself, that I'm good with poisons. I'm called Hayya, like my mother and hers before."

But clearly, Katherine was looking to Mary for some sort of recognition. None ever crossed her face. "Never heard of ye."

"Never?!"

"Naw."

For reasons far beyond Mary's comprehension, that seemed to annoy Katherine. Still, Mary expected she wouldn't have heard of that name. She wasn't a delver into poisons and she certainly couldn't stand the whole "lineage" spiel, the act of passing something important down to one's children only if certain conditions were met. It just annoyed the Scot, so that was possibly the reason why she hadn't heard of her.

"Huh." Katherine leaned back into some suitcases. "So, Mary, what are you?"

"What do ye mean by that?"

"You're a Scottish Assassin, clearly. But I'm wondering where you are in the Brotherhood."

"In the Brotherhood? Right now I'm on a train to Vienna." Clearly, Mary's spot-on answer was not about to be happily received by Katherine, so Mary grinned and continued, "Actually, I'm just a normal Assassin, lassie. Naw master status and naw apprentices tae speak of. I like where I am just fine. Gives me time tae focus on other things. Templars and the like."

"Every Assassin focuses on Templars."

"Och, not like I do, Miss Prince."

"Care to elaborate?"

"Naw."

"Why not?"

"There int any point."

"But I'd like to know who I'm working with."

Mary seemed to consider, and then nodded fairly slowly. "Aye, that's a point right there." The Scot sat up and faced Katherine, and once more Katherine was plagued by the thought of Mary's bandages. "Well lassie, my speciality is tracking down rogue Assassins and bringing them tae justice, whether it be by bringing them back tae the fold or giving them a shot tae the head. Usually it int a shot that does them in, though. I sometimes get... creative. And that's all I'm saying tae that, Miss Prince."

Katherine sighed and rolled her sleeve down once her admiration of her heirloom was finished. "And what made you start focusing on tracking the rogues?"

"The deaths of my parents." Katherine looked to Mary for more. "When I was young I was the daughter of farmers. I was content with that life and not looking tae climb any higher. One night two men came tae our farmhouse and asked for shelter. We gave them the barn for the night with some food. They'd have stayed in the house, but they were armed, and when my da explained they understood. Next morning when I went tae check on them, I noticed more men prowling about. The moment they saw me, they ordered those two men to kill me and my parents. They stabbed me and left me for dead, then killed my ma and da inside while I bled oot on the straw.

"I survived, and later I began pursuing them. I followed them past Edinburgh and straight tae London, and when I found them I killed them. That was when the Assassins met me. The two men who killed my parents were rogue Assassins and had fled London tae escape and regroup with the Templars. With my own resources I tracked them down and made them pay for what they did, and the Assassins were impressed. I trained, and eventually the Assassins realized I had a mind for locating more rogues and recruiting Templars. Ye could say I'm a bit like yerself, Miss Prince. I started with vengeance, but later I realized how empty those deaths had made me feel. All I wanted was tae be with my parents one last time, and those men were my connection tae them."

Mary's words gave Katherine pause, but the younger woman steeled herself and looked Mary dead in the eye with a look of youthful defiance. "I'd do anything to be with my brothers again, but they're dead and I know nothing I do will bring them back. All I have left is vengeance."

"And yer family?" inquired Mary. "Yer ma and da?"

Her eyes narrowed dangerously. "They haven't been the same since Henry and Nathaniel's deaths. I want to make things right again."

"Nothing's ever right with the world once a loved one's gone, Miss Prince. It cannae ever truly return tae how it was. Wounds heal faster when they aren't being inflicted elsewhere."

"Oh, don't preach to me. You did exactly what I am. Though how you managed to kill two trained Assassins..."

"And their accomplises." Mary grinned, though Katherine's face displayed her shock. "Dannae look at me like that, lassie. I have my ways. Like I said before, I can get creative."

"Oh, how diabolically vague of you." Katherine crossed her arms. "... Why are you wearing all those bandages, Mary? It impairs your vision from your right eye."

"Ach, these?" Mary's grin shifted into a slight smile. "Little accident back home. Dannae worry about them. I trained for years with a blindfold. I'll hear yer weapon before, anyhow. It's just a matter of the twally coming tae try tae kill me."

Katherine's eyes seemed to brighten. "You're fairly confident of your skills then."

Nodding, Mary replied, "Aye. I've always had a good sense. Dannae where it comes from, but da and I used tae chase thieves from the farm together, and it all came natural since I was a wee bairn."

"I feel the same. All of my training seemed simple compared to others. But I never could defeat my brothers in a fight, no matter how hard I try. I don't know, I suppose even if I had the skill they only needed a single chance to overwhelm me with brute strength. My mother used to joke that my brothers were a team of oxen. No matter how I struggled they would always find a way to pin me."

Mary smiled at that. And beyond her reply of a simple "Aye," there seemed to be a clue of knowledge Katherine wanted to discover about Mary. By now the young woman knew that Mary was not intentionally being mysterious, only that she had rarely worked with other Assassins before and tended to stay on fairly straight terms for the sake of her mission, but Katherine, despite her youth, knew that their relationship would have to be deeper and stronger. After all, they were chasing after a murderer. They would need to trust one another wholly.

"This damned car is baltic..." Mary rubbed her hands up and down her arms. "Should have packed a heavier coat..."

Katherine agreed and slid on her overcoat. Mary began rummaging through the suitcases inside of the car until she found one of hers and yanked it out of the pile, sending the tower of personal effects tumbling down. But Mary was unbothered by it and found the second of her suitcases, the much heavier one, although she was quite focused on the first of her bags once she'd freed her second.

From her first bag, Mary produced a thick woollen blanket and gestured for Katherine to come. Hesitant but cold, Katherine approached and allowed Mary to hand her the blanket, and then Mary took another from the suitcase and wrapped herself contently in it.

"Thank-you," Katherine intoned as she wrapped herself in the blanket. Almost automatically she inhaled, and realized the scent was very much like smoke. When she examined it more closely, she saw some edges were charred, though when Katherine looked at Mary's she noted hers was far more burned than her own.

"Dannae thank me, lassie," Mary replied. "Ye looked like ye needed it. Assassins take care of one another, aye?"

"Aye—I-I mean, yes, they do."

Katherine's response elicited a faint giggle from Mary's side of the car. "Well, Miss Prince, I hope my accent dunnae confuse ye so much that ye forget yer own!"

"You just use the term so much that was all I was thinking about!"

"Och, aye!"

"I'm serious, Mary!"

"Of course ye are! I was just agreeing with ye!"

"_With a tone_!"

"My dialect has a tone! It's inescapable, Miss Prince!"

Katherine sighed heavily and leaned back into a cluster of suitcases. "I can't keep up this ridiculous banter..."

"Och, dannae put a knot in yer breeks, ye wee sook. I'm only having a spot. Least I'm not blootered."

"I assume you're meaning drunk?"

"Aye! Yer getting it!"

She smiled at the sudden praise. "I'm a fast learner, like I said," she mumbled.

Mary leaned forward whilst tugging the wool blanket more tightly over her shoulders. "Know any other languages beyond yer own, lassie?"

"German. If I wasn't speaking English I have a feeling you'd believe I was German-born. I also know just a bit of French. My mother used to take us for a few trips north of the Canadian border. Cold up there. I don't know how those people live sometimes."

"Never been across the pond quite yet. Though one day I hope tae get my arse over there. Still, I'll go where I'm needed. No sense escaping trouble when I know I'm just gannae find it again. It's in our Assassin luck."

Katherine nodded her agreement. "My mother's said as much."

"Just one more thing, Miss Prince..." Mary leaned back, and once again had her hands clasped over her belly—once more the image of contentment. "Yer bracelet. Keep it covered. I may not have heard of ye, but that dunnae mean no one else has. And whatever ye do, dannae go announcing yerself as 'Hayya' or whatever ye said yer name was. Names like that bring only grief and misery upon those closely associated with it. The relationships ye keep will be in danger. Understand?"

"But—!"

"I'm not saying tae be ashamed of it, Miss Prince. What I'm saying is ye don't yet need tae go parading around to paint a target on yer back for a Templar sniper. For now, just blend in with everything. When we arrive in Vienna, yer German, and I'm a mute. Ye'll do the talking that needs tae be done. That's why we're in this bleeding luggage car instead of a cozy one. But remember to keep yer story straight. Dannae go inventing things far from the truth. We're in Vienna tae visit family, more importantly, their graves. They made a sacrifice within the Austrian-Germany border with their lives."

Katherine nodded. "I understand."

"Good." Mary wriggled around a bit, then seemed to find her ideal spot. "Wake me when we get there. I need some shut-eye."

Again, Katherine nodded, despite the fact that Mary had already closed her only visible eye and could no longer see her. Katherine found an equally comfortable spot somewhere in the car and drifted off to sleep as the excitement of her trip finally settled down, and the seriousness and fear she felt for visiting the place her brothers died crept in, consuming her wholly with dread.

And Katherine wondered if her brothers had found anything. If they had, would the evidence be gone? Hidden? Destroyed? What would her brothers reveal, years after they had been buried?

Katherine's hands balled into fists as she gripped her blanket. She wanted answers. The sooner the Assassin-hunter was brought down, the better. And Katherine wanted the bastard dead, whether Mary desired to bring them in or not.

At that thought, Katherine looked at Mary's prone form, and she wondered what Mary's stake in the hunt was. Could Mary be thinking to convert the Assassin-hunter, or outright kill them? What orders or hidden agendas did the Scot have? And what was her connection to the Assassin-hunter that led Joseph Hall to place her in charge of the operation? She hoped all would be revealed soon.

If there was one thing Katherine hated, it was being kept in the dark. She could never stand it and doubted she ever would.

So Katherine knew her relationship with Mary would be an important one, if she ever wanted to know more than she did.

Or if she wanted to survive an encounter with the Assassin-hunter.


	4. A Ghost's Trail

Chapter Three:

A Ghost's Trail

_**Vienna, German Empire, 1943**_

The moment the train stopped Mary and Katherine chucked their suitcases down the bottom hatch of the car and escaped beneath the train, then raced into the war-torn area of the city that was laden with guards and some fallen monuments that Mary would have liked to visit when they were in their prime. The location of the brothers' deaths was near their campsite for the night, where the two women had a fine view of Saint Stephen's Cathedral. It was there that the two young Princes had their bodies discovered, in the catacombs of the nearly thousand-year-old structure.

Mary took first watch that night from the abandoned apartment they'd made their temporary base. For hours she leaned against the window frame that viewed the cathedral and had her eyes closed as she listened to the foreign sounds. The troops, the languages, the cars racing through the streets even in the dark of night... Her senses were better with her eyes closed, especially since she really had only the one to look around with. Mary put her hands on her dual revolvers—Webley Mark VI—when she heard the approach of two pairs of feet, but they passed by without incident, and Mary loosened up.

That was when Katherine had begun to stir. Mary assumed she hadn't slept very much, considering how close they were to where her brothers had died. Nonetheless, Katherine rose and took the next watch to allow Mary to sleep. But Mary laid down in the blankets and simply stared at the roof. She didn't sleep that night, either.

The two waited in their camping spot all the next day and watched the patrols keenly, then as evening came they put together their reports of troop movement to see if the Germans would impair their search. When they saw their window of opportunity as the clock crept closer to midnight, the two women made for Saint Stephen's Cathedral. With their hoods up, the armed pair stole into the ancient monument like wraiths in the night, their eyes seeking hiding places within as the priests finished the last of their duties. Mary and Katherine hid behind a pillar until the very last of the priests passed them by, and much to Katherine's surprise Mary stepped out of the shadows and inclined her head the moment he saw her. Katherine's heart leapt into her throat.

But the elderly priest smiled at Mary. "Mary MacKenzie," the priest whispered. His grin broadened. "It is ye, int it?"

"Aye, Father MacPhee. I admit I dinnae expect tae see ye here."

"Nor I ye. What're ye doing here, lass?"

Mary paused. "Father, some people I knew died here about three years ago. They were murdered by a very strange person that my friend and I are investigating." Mary gestured to Katherine in the shadows. "The dead are her brothers. I'd be very much obliged if ye could help us, Father."

MacPhee's eyes lowered to the guns at Mary's hips, and he gave her a disapproving look. "Mary, ye can't have those on sacred ground."

"I'm sure the big man'll give me a break. My mission is true and I mean no harm here." Mary crossed her arms. "Now, do ye know anything? Any information ye have will be appreciated mightily."

"Naw. I'm sorry, my wee lass, but I dannae have any knowledge of that."

"Thank ye, anyhow." Mary smiled. "I have a request, Father. Is it possible for me and my friend tae get into the catacombs beneath the cathedral? That's where the bodies were found, see."

Suddenly, MacPhee was flustered. "Mary! Ye cannae just come in here and ask to go there! It's sacred ground! It's heresey if ye try!"

"Och, hush, Father. Ye know I'm as harmless as a wee bairn. I wouldnae do anything tae ruin this place. But there's information down there we need. We'll be in and oot, I promise!"

"Absolutely not!" The priest's head was crimson, though Katherine wasn't sure why. "Dannae ask such a thing of me!"

"All right, all right." Katherine shot a glare Mary's way, which she didn't see because it was towards her right side. "Sorry I asked. May we at least stay a while tae pray? We've had a long journey and, tae my friend's dismay, not much time tae pray tae the Lord."

MacPhee's head lightened, clearly glad Mary was cooperating with him. "Very well, Mary. I see naw harm in it."

"Thank ye." Mary gestured for Katherine to join her, which Katherine did very reluctantly, and the two found a pew to sit in on the left side of the cathedral, in full view of the artistic pulpit that overlooked the whole of the area. Mary bowed her head immediately and began muttering things Katherine didn't understand, which she assumed must have been the Celtic language, but as Katherine bowed her head as well she caught Mary winking at her, and as MacPhee approached and then passed them by, Mary's hand found the priest's keys and she deftly and silently plucked them from him.

Katherine shook her head, and then Mary gestured to the south tower as she handed the younger woman the keys.

"There's a trapdoor inside the tower," the Scot explained. "Be swift, be silent."

Katherine nodded, took the keys and moved like a shadow towards the indicated tower. Father MacPhee began praying at the High Altar, and a few moments later Mary announced she would be leaving. She assumed he'd known Katherine had "left" the vicinity, and Mary left the cathedral.

But once outside, Mary began scaling the Romanesque towers and giant's door at the front of the building until she reached the roof, and from there she made her way to the southern tower where she found a hatch to lower herself into. After landing on her feet, Mary waited for any tell-tale signs of someone having heard her, but when none were revealed Mary hurried down the staircase to the base of the tower and found the trapdoor Katherine had gone to unlocked. Gladdened by the progress, Mary slipped inside.

The catacombs were, of all things, dark and musty. Dust hung in what available light there was from candelabras fastened to the walls. Mary wondered if it had been Katherine who'd lit them or one of the priests. If Katherine had it was to light a path, else Mary realized there might still be living souls in the Austrian tomb.

"Katherine?!" Mary hissed down the hall. "Lassie? Where are ye?"

From around the corner, Katherine stepped out of the shadows and beckoned to Mary. "Hurry! And keep quiet! There are voices ahead!"

Mary caught up to Katherine and followed the American past the resting place of the bishops and the clergy, then they turned right down a narrow hall which opened into a wide space, but held nothing within. Mary took in the sights of mosaics and artwork hundreds of years old, but her goal was to assess the candles again.

"Did ye light all these?" whispered Mary.

Katherine shook her head. "It was like this when I got down here." She looked back at Mary. "Who was that man?"

"Father MacPhee?" Mary asked. Katherine nodded. "Och, he was the priest who tended me back tae health after those rogue Assassins attacked my home. He tried tae have me join the convent when I recovered, since I had nothing else. After I killed those men I learned he had left for the Vatican tae learn more of his craft. I suppose he wanted tae serve here instead of back home."

"Or he's being held prisoner here." Mary raised an eyebrow at Katherine. "Well, he's a Scot. Chances are because of his religion he knows Latin and Italian, as well, especially if he was studying at the Vatican. Italy joined forces with Germany in the beginning, so it's likely MacPhee was placed at the centre of German power to ensure he wasn't a spy, and bring back reports of the German front when officers and soldiers come here to confess."

"Aye." Mary agreed with Katherine, though she hoped MacPhee's situation was otherwise. That would mean stealing MacPhee's keys had a steeper price than she'd initially thought.

Deeper and deeper they trod into the catacombs. Mary let Katherine continue to lead to where the voices were coming from because of her advantage of two eyes while Mary tried to focus on what they were saying. It was a secret Templar meeting. Father MacPhee turned her request away not because he thought it heinous for her to try to find answers, but because his church was hosting the Templars.

Mary reached out and grabbed Katherine's shoulder to pull her to a stop, then Mary quickly began to extinguish the candlelight in the crypts.

"What are you doing?! We need it to see!" exclaimed Katherine in a moderate hiss.

The Scot shot Katherine a look. "Ye heard the voices, aye? We'll be spotted for sure if they come this way!"

"And they'll know we were here if the lights are out!"

"Naw, Miss Prince! They won't! We'll kill them before they realize it!"

"_After_ we find evidence."

"Aye, lassie. If it's here."

The lights extinguished, Mary used the voices to help guide herself and Katherine through the catacombs ahead. Then they discovered a narrow, winding hallway that led straight to a room stored full with preserved foodstuffs and drink. Katherine rolled her eyes when she noticed how quickly Mary could find the barrels of wine (_The Blood of Christ, _Katherine thought with a tone of sarcasm).

At the centre of the room were four men dressed in either army-standards or Templar robes. Mary and Katherine watched from the darkness as one of the men dressed in Templar robes ran his finger down what looked to be a list. Names, Mary realized, although she couldn't be certain if it was Assassin, Templar, or otherwise.

The man nodded solemnly. When he raised his head, Katherine noticed Mary stiffen a bit. Was he the Assassin-hunter? The question lingered in Katherine's eyes, but Mary shook her head. So he wasn't, but Mary knew him.

"Send this to our asset," the Templar drawled to one of his subordinates. "More Assassins we'll put to the blade."

Katherine saw Mary reach for one of her pistols. Katherine reached for her own—a Colt 1911—and primed it. The moment Mary tensed the Scot leapt from the shadowed hallway and fired two shots at the second robed Templar. The two officers reached for their guns but Katherine fired her own weapon at their hands, and the men screamed and clutched their wounds, their guns having flown from their grasp to lay useless on the floor. The second Templar hit the ground and gargled his death throes as blood gushed from his wounds and rose from his mouth like a fountain.

Meantime, the only remaining robed Templar glared at Mary with gun in hand. "_You_," he snarled. "You goddamn thorn in my side...!"

"Ach, is that any way tae speak tae a lady, Mister Cole?" goaded Mary with a lecherous grin. "And here its been so long since I last saw ye! How long? At least five years, must be!"

"Not long enough," growled Cole as he fixed his eyes on the two Assassin and his pained comrades.

"Ye've still got my sword, I see." Mary took a few steps to the side to keep Cole in her sights as a wounded officer stumbled in front of her barrel. "Now, I'll give ye a chance tae return it."

Cole grinned. His barrel followed Mary all the same. Katherine kept her eyes on him and the officers. "But its served me well, Miss MacKenzie. So much Assassin blood spilled... No wonder you want it back so badly."

Mary, nonchalantly, shrugged. "All right then," she said, and then leapt to the side and lunged at Cole.

Cole fired some shots at Mary but they missed just in time for Mary to get close to Cole and unleash her left hidden blade, which cut upward from his pelvis to his chest. Even from where she stood, blocked by the recovered officers, Katherine saw the strike was shallow and wouldn't do him in, but it did well to cut his belt in half. Another quick strike with her hidden blade and Mary had Cole leap backwards to avoid it. With a victorious smirk Mary used her foot to catch the falling blade and toss it upwards, where she deactivated her hidden blade and caught the sword.

"Thank ye for returning it so promptly!" exclaimed the Scot. "Always knew deep in my heart ye Templars had a soft spot for a bonny lass!"

"I have to say Miss MacKenzie, the bandages certainly improve your looks!"

"Well, I'd lend ye some Mister Cole, but I'm afraid it wouldnae help as much as ye'd wish!"

Cole threw a punch at Mary, which she ducked as she jammed the sheathe of her sword into her belt. The grip stuck into her stomach uncomfortably but she could bear through it. She backed away as he fired his gun again, and quickly found cover behind one of the officers attacking Katherine. Using them as living shields, Katherine and Mary charged forward, towards Cole, but his larger mass crashed into them and sent the women flying with the bodies. Cole fled through the tunnels Katherine and Mary had yet to explore.

Mary began her pursuit of him while Katherine hesitated in the room and grabbed what papers she could. The Scot followed Cole, and turned the corner she'd seen him run down when a knife suddenly cut through the darkness towards her. She only barely managed to block the weapon with her right arm to retreat before Cole advanced on her, a killer's glint in his eye.

With blood leaking from her wound, Mary holstered her revolver and activated both her hidden blades. "So it's going tae be like that?"

Cole leapt forward, his knife slicing through air as he tried to cut into Mary, but the Assassin held her own and parried any of his attacks that she couldn't dodge, though not without some degree of difficulty. Cole's speciality was blades, not guns.

He'd managed to push her into the hallway when Katherine came sprinting around the corner. Cole ground his teeth together, gave Mary a hard and quite unexpected shove right into a wall, and then continued his retreat.

"Come back here, ye boggin bastart!" hollered Mary as she hopped to her feet. "I'll tear yer goddamn arms oot of yer sockets and use them as my paddles! If I ever get my hands on yer skull I'll use it tae get blootered!"

"Maybe screaming those profanities is the reason he's running!" Katherine quipped as she caught up with Mary. "Hurry! We can't let him escape!"

They tore after Cole, but reached the escape route too late; he was long gone, but without whatever he'd left in that room. Still, Mary had she and Katherine escape through a grate two streets over before they dared slow. Once they reached their campsite Katherine grabbed the papers from her coat and excitedly sat down to read while Mary slowly crossed to her small suitcase.

Katherine grinned widely. "This is brilliant! We've probably saved all these Assassins from that murderer! And we have some locations of Templar activities!" She lifted up a page, and her eyes brightened. "And this! This is Henry's writing! There are so many places here we didn't suspect... And people!"

"Ach, that's good." Mary sat down in front of her suitcase and grabbed the bandages inside. The moment she shed her overcoat Katherine finally noticed the wound seeping with blood on her arm.

"Mary!" Katherine quickly abandoned the wealth of knowledge and hurried to the other Assassin. "Damn! I'm sorry, I didn't notice!"

Mary smiled. "Och, that's all right, lassie. I had my hand on it tae stem the flow. It's really not a big issue."

Katherine took the bandages and rolled up Mary's sleeve to get a better look at it. It wasn't serious, from what Katherine could tell. Then again, it was apparent to her now that Mary's bandages did not end with just her face. Her entire arm was wrapped up, as well. Katherine had assumed Mary had wrapped her hand in bandages for a better grip, as many Assassins did back in America, but Mary's bandages had absolutely everything to do with her wounds.

The younger Assassin wrapped the bandages over the wound and then left to find a needle and string to stitch it up, but that wasn't until a few hours later. By the time she returned, Mary had organized each paper Katherine had found into an order Katherine wasn't sure she could decipher, but Mary's eyes snapped to each paper meticulously, searching for connections. Once the wound was stitched up, Mary grinned.

"Found ye," she said, and pointed to the name on the Assassin hit-list.

Katherine looked at it. Andrew Lee, London, England.

"What about him?" asked Katherine.

"The Assassin-hunter turned up around 1940, and yer brothers were some of the first tae fall to their blade," explained Mary with a triumphant glint in her eye. "In 1938, this man was supposed tae be part of a strike team tae kill Hitler and recover a possible Piece of Eden. Everyone died, but Andrew Lee never showed up. If he's on this list, he may know something about the Assassin-hunter—something he wannae supposed tae. Or, better yet, he may be working close with the Assassin-hunter and is on the kill list tae cut off some ties."

"Either way, Andrew Lee looks like our next little tangle." Katherine looked up from the papers. "Who was that man from earlier? Cole, wasn't it?"

"Richard Cole, an American Templar the Assassins believe transported a possible Piece of Eden tae Germany a few years back, which was what the strike team was for. Tae make matters worse, he has the Sight."

"The Sight?"

"What people like tae call 'Eagle Vision', meaning his genes are a bit more concentrated in the First Civilization department, lassie."

Katherine hung her head a bit at that to process the new information. "Did you know him?"

"Och, we encountered one another a few times and ended up in a scrap, but he always finds a way tae slip away like a bleeding git!" Mary rolled her sleeve down and shrugged her overcoat back on. "I'll pack this up. Ye get some shut-eye. We leave in the morn."

"For where?"

Mary sighed. "Cannae ye read, lassie?! London! We're headed tae London!"


	5. Like a Sore Thumb

Chapter Four:

Like a Sore Thumb

_**London, England, 1943**_

The journey to London had been uneventful for Mary and Katherine. The two had retraced their steps to the Maginot Line and stopped for a few nights there to re-supply and report their progress to Hall. Once Mary had felt she'd made ample connections and confirmed that, indeed, London was their destination, the two set off again and managed to secure travel across the British Channel. London was only a day or two's journey after.

Katherine had packed her suitcase to prepare for another night in a ruin, but when she'd stated that to Mary the Scot had laughed at her, then led them to a pub the moment they arrived in London.

It was called the Lamb and Flag. British soldiers, officers, and aspiring politicians all congregated there in a mass of liquor and cigar smoke, and the occasional whiff of pipe tobacco. The two rented a room in the pub and made it their new base of operations to find Andrew Lee, but as Katherine made preparations to find him, Mary lounged on her bed and prepared to have a nap. Their room was cozy and Katherine had to admit she desired some rest as well, but it infuriated her that Mary could so easily put their mission aside and give in to those temptations.

But before Katherine could speak her mind, Mary asked, "What time is it?"

"Midday," answered Katherine.

"Ach. Good. Ye can sleep a bit."

Katherine crossed her arms as she glared at the lazy form of Mary. "I'm not sleeping until we've made a plan!"

"I've got a plan already, lassie. Sleep."

"Absolutely not! Not until you share it with me!"

Mary opened her visible eye and gave Katherine an annoyed look. "Miss Prince, we're waiting for an Assassin tae appear at the pub. That's all."

"I doubt it." Katherine's arms moved to set firmly on her hips. "In Vienna we were looking for clues around my brothers' deaths, but you ran out chasing Cole. If I hadn't grabbed anything we'd have nothing! And then Father MacPhee! You could have told me you knew him instead of give me a heart-attack!"

The Scot wore a smug grin on her face. "Lassie, there's a reason I dannae share everything, and it's because of the Templars. I have no doubt Cole knows we're looking for the Assassin-hunter, and that means our job's harder now. It also means that, if either of us are captured, only one of us can die with the whole of our mission while the other knows just enough tae continue."

"Mary, we're partners! I'm risking my life, too!"

"Then be patient, Miss Prince," chided Mary. "Andrew Lee frequents this pub, no doubt tae drown his sorrows or guilt. We'll get information from him."

"And if he's working with the Assassin-hunter?"

"Simple: we kill him."

Katherine frowned darkly at Mary. "You'll have to tell me more sometime."

"When ye show that ye'll not try tae rush after the hunter, I'll consider it, lassie."

"I didn't leave Maginot without Hall's consent."

"That's Hall. This is Mary MacKenzie yer dealing with. Ye'll find that I dannae much care for lone wolfing."

"Oh, like you did with Cole?"

A dark glare settled in Mary's eyes, and had every bone in Katherine's body scream that she was crossing lines that she absolutely shouldn't be. "Richard Cole is a primary target for all Assassins in Europe, Miss Prince. Under the circumstances it was the right decision tae pursue him. I know we almost left behind that information, but if Cole was allowed tae escape—which he _did_, naw thanks tae yer fast footwork or the way ye dealt with those _wounded_ guards so slowly—he'd inform the Assassin-hunter, and since he most certainly _has_, our job is now much more difficult." The glare faded as quickly as it had come. "So before ye go ahead pointing yer finger like a dolt, think of the way yer actions speak as well. Like Hall said, I'm not here tae instruct ye or teach ye, but if ye insist on acting like a trainee that's how I'll be treating ye."

But Katherine wasn't done pushing, the arrogance of youth clearly showing in her defiance. "You and Richard Cole have history, don't you? Your encounters were more than just a few snide remarks about Assassins and Templars and bloody noses."

"Ye want tae pry? Pry away then. Richard Cole not only stole my sword, but also masterminded my accident in Edinburgh." She sat up. "He had those names on that list because _he's_ the one who sends the Assassin-hunter oot tae claim the lives of our allies!"

"Then why not just shoot him?!"

Mary grinned. "Ye want tae know why, lassie?" She shrugged off the left side of her overcoat, unbuttoned her vest and opened her shirt enough that Katherine could see her shoulder. Two harsh bullet scars were forever cut into her, one above and one below her collarbone. "Cole's got some fancy First Civilization piece that deflects bullets. I shot him twice, and instead I was the one wounded. Fancy that." She slipped her shirt back on and began buttoning the vest again. "I learn from my mistakes, lassie. Richard Cole dies by a blade or old age, and I promise it'll be the former."

The conversation ended there with Katherine stammering for something to say, but when nothing came she turned her back on Mary and began studying what notes they had on Andrew Lee while she stewed over the Scot's words. In fact, she was so preoccupied with the bickering she'd done she hadn't even begun reading the notes until she realized she was acting like a child who'd just been told off by a parent.

Katherine cleared her mind and began to hone her focus. Andrew Lee was the son of a police officer and joined the Assassins in his mid-twenties. Now nearing forty, Lee hadn't yet seen himself become a Master Assassin but was renowned as a sharpshooter. His leading skills were inadequate though he took orders well. The only mission he hadn't seen through was the one in 1938—the one he didn't show up for.

That annoyed Katherine a great deal. It was like a blot of ink on an otherwise clean paper, that last mission. His superiors had been too busy dealing with the aftermath of that failure and beginning of the war to properly reprimand Lee for his inadequacy. What had kept him from it? What was so important that he abandoned his team and possibly aided in their failure?

With these questions in mind Katherine laid in her bunk and stared at the ceiling. Mary was already sound asleep. She made no noise whatsoever, which had made Katherine think her dead, but her chest rose and fell to display her breathing. Sighing, Katherine tried to seek answers for the questions she wanted to ask both Lee and Mary, but found none for either one. But Katherine wouldn't give up on either, and while it seemed she would gain answers from Lee far sooner than Mary, she felt that, for at least one night, she'd learned enough of Mary.

Though Katherine did wonder how many scars Mary truly possessed. What was under all those bandages?

In the late evening, Mary had supper delivered upstairs and chose to awaken Katherine with the aroma of chicken hanging over her nose. Mary grinned when Katherine's eyes fluttered open and met hers.

"Yer drooling, lassie," Mary joked (though Katherine brought a hand up to her mouth just to make certain of it). The Scot casually walked to the small table in their apartment and set Katherine's plate down in what the American assumed would be her spot. She was correct, as Mary took the seat opposite. "Well? The Devil likes his food hot. So would ye."

Katherine huffed but approached and sat in her seat. The two ate their meal in relative silence, which Katherine was beginning to become accustomed to. Mary, though quick-witted and fairly talkative when she got going, seemed to have to be prompted a bit to engage in a conversation. With how boldly Katherine had seen her fight, the younger woman found it odd that Mary could shut down and be a completely different person. At least, that was how Katherine saw it. Mary didn't desire to speak to someone who'd find something to complain about so easily.

_Is this what all Americans are like?_ wondered the Scot. _Naw wonder they had that wee spat with Britain two-hundred years ago..._

Once their meal was finished, Mary took the plates and walked downstairs to the kitchens. She didn't immediately head back upstairs, but instead chose to mingle at the bar with some of the men there. Of course they were all keen on her bandages, but Mary waved them off with her usual bombing excuse. While Katherine waited twenty minutes for Mary upstairs, the American's impatience practically screamed forth. On missions she was usually calm, cool and collected, but that had been in the United States with Assassins she was supremely familiar with. Not having Mary on a schedule left an uncomfortable knot in Katherine's stomach. She could hear no sound downstairs but the muffled conversations being had over food and drink. But without a doubt she could smell the smoke, and it made her eyes water and her nose wrinkle.

Half an hour into Katherine's waiting, she finally left their room and made her way down to the first floor. At first glance it looked like the men were simply conversing, and then Katherine rolled her eyes when she saw Mary partaking in a drinking game. Shots of whiskey, from what Katherine could tell. The American couldn't imagine what was more pathetic: that Mary was drinking on the job or that she was winning the game.

"Och, ye done already, laddie?!" Mary grabbed a glass and emptied it in a single gulp. "Ah!" she breathed, as if she was drinking air. "That's a good brand ye have here! I might have tae buy some for myself!"

Katherine shook her head when she witnessed money exchange hands. Instead of bursting to the front of the crowd like she wanted, Katherine held back and observed it. There was a chance Andrew Lee wouldn't recognize Mary, since Katherine knew for a fact she'd never met Lee. If Mary was right and Lee was crawling into a bottle to alleviate his guilt, he wouldn't even be aware that Assassins would be in the pub waiting for him. If he noticed Katherine, she'd be impressed. Then she'd figure he had Mary's drinking constitution. Already three men were passed out on the floor around the table.

Mary's grin never faded. "Another round? Or have ye all had enough of a bonny lass?"

"My turn!" a man declared and practically shoved his drunk mate onto the floor. "I'd love to have a go at you, dearie."

"I'm not sitting here tae disappoint, laddie," Mary replied, "but I'd be careful with yer words."

"Why? Looks like it's been a while since anyone's ground your corn!"

Katherine noticed a subtle, intimidating look settle on Mary's features. The smile remained. "Put yer booze where yer mouth is."

He took a drink, and it was promptly followed by Mary. The man grinned again. A navy man, from the look of him. He was rough-looking and stout with a thick beard on his face, and Katherine noticed he'd smoked a fair bit of pipe tobacco. She could yell from his yellowed fingernails.

"Trouble at home?" the man asked. "Husband ain't satisfying you no more?"

"Drink." He took a drink. Mary took a drink.

"Figured. Why else would a lass like you be out here and not caring for the little ones at home?"

"Less talk, laddie. Ye take instructions like a wee bairn!"

Two more drinks were consumed. Katherine's interest was piqued. Mary was pushing away his words with the same light-heartedness she did with Katherine... Mary was intentionally avoiding the subject of her family. Why?

"Aye, maybe, but you aren't answering my questions!"

Mary leaned forward. The man was already swaying. Katherine wondered if the whiskey had been distilled at all. "Ye want tae know about my private life then? Here's the condition..." Mary pushed the bottle of whiskey towards the sailor. "Drink up, laddie. If ye finish this before I finish a new bottle, I'll let ye know everything ye want tae know."

He grinned lecherously. "Like what it takes to make a Scot like you scream?"

"If it takes yer fancy."

_Not in my room, you won't be,_ growled Katherine inwardly.

The sailor felt as though victory was in his grasp. He grinned and connected his nearly-finished bottle with Mary's full one. "I'll have a lot of questions, then!"

"And I'll make sure ye stew over every one!"

In a flash, Mary had her bottle opened and tossed her head back to drink the contents. The sailor had less than half left, but by the time he had a quarter Mary was finished half her bottle. She slammed the empty whiskey bottle on the table, burped like a man and grinned triumphantly when the sailor finished a whole ten seconds after her. Katherine wasn't sure if she should be disgusted or in awe.

"You cheated, you wench!"

The sailor practically leapt over the table to get to Mary. Katherine began to move in to help but saw that, even a little drunk, Mary was more than a match for him. She flipped the sailor—who was twice her size—over herself using his own drunken momentum and had him smash into a wooden table not far away. He was knocked out from the shake and the liquor.

"Am I the winner?" Mary asked.

More money exchanged hands, and all continued as if no woman had thrown a burly sailor over her own head. Katherine couldn't help but wonder if it was a common occurrence. And then the bell to the door rang as the door slowly swung open.

Katherine didn't know Lee by face, but she knew enough of the way he held himself and the care he took in controlling the motion of his hands that she knew the man who walked through the door to be an Assassin the moment she laid eyes on him. She didn't even have to glance at the hood he was removing.

The cheery dingle of the bell instantly had Mary's attention, and the Scot managed a peek through the bickering and excited crowd to see Lee. She grinned, and just as Katherine was moving in to subdue him quietly, Mary leapt onto the table she'd been drinking on, sending the shot glasses and bottles flying, and laughed wildly.

"Andrew Lee! About bloody time ye made it here, laddie! Yer twally arse couldnae have come at a better time! Have a drink, will ye?!"

Katherine nearly tripped and hit her face on the floor, struck by the older woman's idiocy. Mary was a bit drunker than she'd thought.

Lee backed towards the door, his eyes locked on Mary. And Katherine, despite being nearly floored by Mary's complete lack of subtlety, saw the pure terror clear as day in his eyes.

"Shit! Don't come any closer!" And then Lee was out the door.

"Mary!" Katherine exclaimed, and bolted after him.

Mary was right on Katherine's tail, her trademark grin splitting her face with eagerness. Katherine, worried, glanced over her shoulder and expected to see the Scot stumbling against the cobblestones of London, but the Scot had, somehow, pulled herself together from the drinking. Or maybe she was barely drunk at all and just a moron. At least, that was Katherine's guess.

As they chased Lee through narrow streets with the Assassin shoving boxes and barrels in their way and their Assassin expertise making his attempts but a simple obstacle, Lee managed to began climbing to the rooftops of the city. Mary sprinted past Katherine with a sudden burst of speed and skidded to a stop in front of a low building, then clasped her hands in front of her.

"Here's a boost, lassie!" called Mary.

Katherine ran, planted a foot in Mary's hands and let the Scot send her flying to the top, where she continued the chase. Lee had nothing to separate himself from the Assassins but a few gaps in the buildings, and his only hope was if Katherine tripped and fell off. Even then, Mary was hot on their tail from the ground.

Lee saw his chance and leapt into a farmer's cart filled to the brim with straw. The farmer felt the impact, softened as it was, and hollered at him as he scrambled out. Katherine knew the jump was too far for her to make since the farmer continued on his way, but unwilling to lose Lee she leapt as far as the could to the nearest building, smashed into the side and used the wall to leap to another wall, and again and again until she had slowed her impact to the ground. She'd certainly scraped herself but it was a small sacrifice.

Katherine had lost sight of Mary, so Katherine dared not lose Lee. But as he ran through an alleyway and began leaping on boxes, the highest toppled over as he leapt across the gap. Katherine would either have to go around or try to make it over the barbed fence he was clearing. She was in the middle of cursing her luck when, swinging from around the corner of the building on the arm of a construction beam, Mary kicked Lee in the chest and sent him flying backward into a pile of dirty sacks. Lee was disoriented from the sudden fall, and Katherine used that chance to block his escape as Mary, who hand landed much more gracefully and on her feet, strode over to Lee with her hidden blade extended.

The moment Lee saw the blade he tried to scramble away, but found he was blocked on all sides, and before a plan could come to mind Mary tackled him hard to the ground. In desperation he put his hands up in front of his face.

"Please, God! Don't kill me!" he shouted, avoiding Mary's eyes. "Please! I heard what you've done! I don't want to end up like them! Oh God!"

Katherine's brow furrowed, and Mary's grinning face quickly became a stone void of emotion, excepting the lethal look in her eyes.

"Dannae ye speak of that, Mister Lee," growled Mary. Katherine took a few cautious steps forward. Mary was like a different person. She felt _different_. "If ye dannae want tae end up like them, ye'll tell me everything ye know! Why did ye leave yer team?! What happened?! Who's the one killing Assassins?!"

Lee glanced up at Mary very carefully. "W-... What are you talking about? You mean—?"

"WHAT THE HELL DO YE THINK I'M TALKING ABOUT?!" Mary's hidden blade deactivated, and she shook him harshly. "THE ASSASSIN-HUNTER!"

"Please! _Stop_!"

"Mary! That's enough!" Katherine put a hand on Mary's shoulder. It was immediately shrugged off, but when Mary glanced over at Katherine she appeared to calm down a little. "We need the information!" pressed Katherine. "Innocent until proven guilty. _Stop it_."

The handfuls of Lee's overcoat Mary had bunched up in her fists loosened, and she took a deep breath. "Aye. Yer right." If she wanted to add anything, she chose that it wasn't the time and refocused her attentions on Lee. "Start from the beginning, laddie. The mission ye never went on."

Lee's terror seemed to calm, and after he looked to Katherine for some sort of reassurance, he nodded slowly. "I-I was asked to go on a mission and provide sniper support," he admitted quietly. "At the time, I wasn't told any specifics. It wasn't important, and, yeah, it still isn't, but I brushed it off as something that didn't need me because of all the Assassins that were going on it. I-I thought it was some sort of training mission for new recruits. I wanted a break, so I didn't go and sent a letter to my superiors that I was ill. A-And then..." He gulped. "Oh God... All seven of them..."

"Aye?"

He shook his head, as if to clear it. "W-When I heard they'd died, I-I just... I couldn't believe it. I wanted to redeem myself, but all I could do was crawl into a bottle... But then some men came to the pub—the Lamb and Flag—and talked about a secret facility beneath a camp. They were in British uniform, but I recognized the Templar on them. So I dug into it a bit."

"And you found something," declared Katherine.

"I did," Lee admitted. "You two would have heard of the camp by now, but even before it was announced it was used as a secret training facility and... they conducted _terrible_ experiments there... That's where the Assassin-hunter came from!" Lee meekly looked at Mary. "I-I thought since you'd been gone, you might be the Assassin-hunter. That's why I ran. The hunter knows that I discovered where he was created!"

Mary narrowed her eyes at him. "And why dinnae ye tell yer superiors?" she asked.

"After I sent them a letter telling them I was ill and skipped out on a mission that cost seven lives? God, it would be nothing short of a miracle if they believed me if I said the Earth was round!"

"The camp you mentioned..." Katherine came just a bit closer. "What's its name?"

Lee gulped. "Auschwitz."

"The German camp?!"

He nodded quickly. "Yes. The horrors you've heard are true, but they also use those people for experiments to see if they can enhance the Assassin-hunter."

"Do ye have names, Lee? People we can link tae this place?"

Another nod. "Y-Yes. I recognized one, and I-I managed to connect him with the attack in '38: Richard Cole."

Mary white-knuckled Lee's coat. "Cole, ye fucking minger..." Mary released Lee and stood over him. "Ye keep yer ass away from the Assassin base. Move around. Get the fire under yer ass alight. If the Assassin-hunter's after ye, coming tae the same pub every night int gannae keep a low profile. Get on the run!"

Lee practically plastered himself against the wall, slowly rose up and began moving towards the entrance of the alley. "T-Thank-you. I'll go now!"

"Ye'd better."

He was gone in a flash, leaving only Mary and Katherine in the alley. It had taken Katherine a while, but she'd realized Mary had shouted at Lee intentionally to have him run. The alley was completely deserted, and a much better choice than asking questions in a local pub, where any and all ears could hear their conversation. So Mary's blunder was actually a strategic move...

Then what caused her to lose control over herself so easily? And what had Lee meant when he mentioned others?

Mary turned, and Katherine noticed she was rubbing her right arm a little bit. Her fist was clenching and unclenching.

"Mary—."

"I know what ye want tae talk about, lassie, but I'm not in the mood."

Katherine let Mary pass by her and didn't say a word about it. She followed the Scot all the way back to their room, and even though some rain had started and they'd gotten a bit wet, neither of them sped up. Katherine stayed behind to keep an eye on Mary, and Mary simply didn't seem to have the energy to move faster. By the time they reached the Lamb and Flag both were soaked thoroughly.

As soon as they finished trudging up to their room, Katherine asked, "Is there anything I can do?"

Mary shook her head and began to lower herself into bed.

"Mary, you need to take your coat off. And your boots. And everything else."

The Scot paused. "The cold feels too good," was her ominous reply. "I'll change in a spot. I just need tae lie down."

Katherine began to build a fire in lieu of conversation. When it was loud she hung her overcoat up and removed her boots.

"I'll get us some tea," Katherine announced. Mary didn't reply, but Katherine hadn't been expecting one.

Not a few moments later, Katherine had returned with two cups and a pot of tea. Mary had since hung all of her wet clothing on a line near the fire and changed into her spare set of clothes. Katherine noticed a bundle of bloody bandages stuffed into the wastebasket.

"Is your arm—?"

"I took care of it," Mary muttered dismissively.

Katherine kept her gaze set firmly on the tea and poured the two cups required. She then pushed Mary's cup over to her spot. "Here," she said. "It's going to help with the chill."

She seemed hesitant, but Mary slowly forced her body up from the bed and made her way to the table. Katherine noticed how Mary reached for the cup with her left hand.

"Are you all right, Mary?"

Mary seemed just as keen to avoid Katherine's gaze as the other way around. She absently played with her teacup instead, as if hoping it would provide a decent enough distraction.

"I appreciate yer worrying, and... I'm sorry, Katherine."

And that was all Mary would say on the matter that day.


	6. A Modern Frankenstein

Chapter Five:

A Modern Frankenstein

_**London, England, 1943**_

The next morning, Mary awoke with a hangover and a sore right arm. With an irritated groan, she rose from her cot and stretched, ignoring the added sharpness and stiffness of her reopened wound. The window was open to let a draft in the room that wasn't particularly unpleasant. In fact, Mary enjoyed the early morning breeze. She could smell from within the last droplets of rain and the puddles that had formed on the cobbles. Despite the overcast sky, the city was abuzz with life as people began their daily routines.

Mary rolled her shoulders, her teeth gritting when her muscles protested, then found her way to the table. She grabbed a small piece of toast that was a bit cold from sitting out and bit into it while she strode to the fire and took the kettle from its perch to keep warm, then returned to the table and poured herself some tea. Mary had just seated herself when Katherine, who'd been absent from the room, entered through the door. She was already fully-dressed and looked like she'd been awake for a while.

Katherine smirked the moment she saw Mary and shut the door firmly behind her. "You look like a mess," she stated with the bluntness of paddle. "I just returned from the apothecary. I'm going to make you a tonic."

"Dannae need it, lassie," replied the Scot, who took a sip of her tea indignantly. "I'm fine. Yer worries are misplaced."

"Oh, really?" Katherine said, her voice a few octaves louder than it needed to be.

Mary nearly cringed when her head pounded. "Aye," grumbled Mary. "Really. Now would ye keep yer voice down? Our poor neighbours might be a wee bit annoyed tae be woken up by a loud American. Yer not helping out yer people's public image."

"Neither are you, Mary." Katherine glowered at the Scot as she set down the wrapped packages she'd brought in. Mary could have kicked herself for not noticing. Hangovers, especially of the Scottish variety, were not ideal for an Assassin's career. "Do you even get phased by whiskey? Or vodka, for that matter? Or is it all water to you?"

"Tae tell ye the truth, lassie, it goes out easier than it comes in."

The corner of Katherine's upper lip twitched with disgust. "Mary, you're really a man, aren't you?"

"I'll have ye know that most Scottish men find me _very_ attractive, Miss Prince."

"But most _civilized_ women don't belch like sailors!"

Mary grinned. "Point for ye, lassie, but most civilized women also dannae try tae track down the murderer of their brothers and become part of a secret cult. Peas in the pod, ye and I."

Katherine pursed her lips. Instead of answering, she simply sat, poured herself some tea, and began unwrapping the packages. Mary's nose scrunched at a lot of the smells that were coming from them, and decided to mask it with more tea. By the time Katherine had them all unwrapped, Mary was on her second cup and third piece of toast.

"How's your arm?" asked Katherine.

Mary flexed it. "All right. Might need some more time tae heal though. Hardly matters."

"I'm making a salve, too. While I'm at it I may as well re-stitch it—."

"That mean I need tae grab something tae drink from downstairs?"

"Absolutely not."

With a cocky grin, Mary took another sip of tea and watched as Katherine began working at the plants and salts and whatever else was there that Mary had little-to-no knowledge of.

"I thought ye worked with poisons, lassie. Not poultices."

Katherine spared Mary a glance for a moment. "To test poisons, I also need to create antidotes. I studied with field doctors and professors of the medical trade to learn all I could. No point testing a rash poison on someone if they won't stop itching until their flesh is gone. And it offers me an opportune time to make sure the antidote works."

"Now I'm glad yer brothers have been spared yer sneaky ways."

"For now. I'm wondering if I shouldn't use some sort of poison on the Assassin-hunter though."

Mary's blue eyes narrowed at the American girl. "Ye want yer enemy tae suffer?"

Defensively, Katherine replied, "This bastard murdered my brothers—!"

But Mary had none of that. "Oh, aye, that makes a difference. I'll tell all the other people, innocent and otherwise, tae holster their guns so they can make way for yer all-important twally arse. I mean, ye must be the only one tae have lost someone dear tae this boggin' bastart! Who am I tae stop or judge ye!"

Katherine slowed in her motions. The mortar and pestle in her hands were clenched in her white-knuckled fists. "It's... It's not just for me!"

"I dannae care who it's for, lassie! An Assassin doesnae let their enemy suffer! Naw matter what!"

"Well, what about what you did with Lee? What the hell was he screaming about?"

Mary pursed her lips. "Dinnae ye hear him? He thought I was the Assassin-hunter."

"He recognized you from somewhere. If he only thought you were the Assassin-hunter, he wouldn't have picked you out, even when you yelled at him. He'd think you were a drunk woman until he'd see your robes, and by then I would have dragged him outside."

"Aye, but we needed him far away from the Lamb and Flag. It was the only sure way naw one would be watching."

Katherine levelled a glare at Mary, but gave up her questions, at least for the hour. It concerned her how little Katherine actually knew about Mary, enough that she wasn't sure if Joseph Hall had been wise in pairing them. The Highlander was deadly, a natural strategist (even though Katherine admitted Mary was, indeed, shockingly brilliant in how boisterous she was), and very strict with the Creed. At the same time, Mary appeared arrogant and fairly snide when she didn't want to answer questions, like she was either used to keeping secrets or was simply not eager to share her life's story. It would make Katherine more comfortable about the person she was seated across from though.

Mary was already dressing into her clothes, which were dried from last night thanks to the warmth of the fire, though Katherine noticed how Mary had set her shirt and coat on the windowsill before slipping them on. Perhaps it was some Scottish form of luck? Regardless, Katherine voiced her concerns that Mary would catch an illness, considering how the rain had pelted them that night. But Mary simply sighed and replied, "Well, why's the window open, then?"

Katherine had felt the room was stuffy, but she got Mary's point and was silenced once again.

Fully dressed, Mary approached the table again and observed Katherine as she finished the tonic and poultice. Mary took the small bottle of tonic and examined the clear liquid inside.

"I can drink this?" she asked the American.

Katherine nodded. "Yes. Just try not to drink it all in—."

Mary tossed the contents into her mouth and swallowed it all at once. She made a face when the taste finally hit her. "Och, God! It tastes like sour grapes and mint!"

"It would have tasted better if you'd let me finish my sentence!" growled Katherine. "Now I'll fix up your stitches. Try not to complain too loudly."

Half an hour later, Katherine and Mary left the Lamb and Flag with their luggage to a car outside. The driver was a middle-aged man who smoked a pipe regularly, as was evident from his yellowed fingernails, but he appeared to shave well and was pleasant enough.

"Where to?" he asked politely once the two were seated in the back.

"Putney Railway Station, please," Katherine answered.

The man nodded and set the car in gear. Katherine leaned back against her seat and felt an urge to close her eyes to sleep through the trip, but oddly the hair on the back of her neck was standing up. Something didn't feel quite right. She noticed Mary felt the same.

Mary was taking note of the windows, the space of the cab, the driver, and the roads outside. Something felt wrong, but she couldn't put her thumb on it. Then the Scot noticed a man waving the cab down and she asked the driver to pull over for him. With a pointed glare Mary locked her gaze with Andrew Lee, his luggage packed and ready to leave.

"What the bloody hell are you doing here?!" she snarled at the man.

Lee clenched his fists. "It's better for us to be travelling together! Splitting up will have us all..." He lowered his voice so the driver would be less likely to hear. "Killed."

"We're more likely to be killed now that you've shown up," said Katherine.

Lee sat in the passenger's side in the front. "We'll part ways at the station, so don't you worry. We're just sharing cab fare for now."

Mary exhaled through her nose and waved the driver on. The streets in London weren't as busy the way they were heading, which gave them ample time to hurry. Katherine had unfolded the morning paper and was about to settle down to read when something in the rear-view mirror caught her eye: a car behind them, which had tinted windows and looked fairly expensive. Alarms went off in her head, and a glance at Mary assured her that she wasn't the only one feeling the sudden goosebumps on her arms.

Mary leaned forward towards Lee. "Mister Lee," she whispered, "keep yer head down."

Lee slid down in his seat a bit.

"Driver," said Mary, "it looks like our friends behind us are trying tae catch up. Could ye slow down a wee bit?"

He nodded and pulled over to the side of the road, where the car continued in a crawl. The second car slowly moved ahead of them. One of the windows were down, and within, Mary could see Richard Cole smirking at her.

The driver continued once the Templars had passed, but now their roles were reversed—the Assassins followed the Templars now. But Mary had no intention of tailing them, even when they turned a sharp corner.

Katherine glared at Mary. "Aren't we going to follow them?"

"No," answered Mary. "They want that. We'll be fighting a losing battle if we follow them tae their home."

Then, as the car began to speed up with the countryside in view, something landed on the roof. Surprised, the driver yanked the wheel to the side with his foot still on the pedal, and the next thing the Assassins knew the car had rolled. Glass flew everywhere, and one shard punctured the driver through the throat. Twisted metal wound its way around the doors, making them difficult to open. The car laid on its right side, and Mary was lying on top of Katherine. Andrew Lee had a few glass shards in his arm, but didn't appear to be hurt seriously.

"Mary!" Katherine gasped. "Are you all right?!"

"Ugh..." Mary shook her head to rid herself of some dizziness. "Fit as a fiddle, lassie..." She glanced at the door above her. "Katherine, I'm gonna try tae kick the door open, aye?"

When Katherine nodded, Mary adjusted herself, aimed at the weakest point in the door, and shot her legs out. A few strong hits and the door flew open. Mary climbed out, careful of the glass that surrounded the area, and looked down at Katherine.

"Lassie, give me Lee," she said.

Katherine cautiously helped Lee out the window. The man was cradling his wounded arm, but thankfully he hadn't been hurt beyond that. As soon as he'd been taken to a relatively safe distance Mary returned and hoisted Katherine out of the car.

"Get to Lee," Mary said. "We're getting out of here."

Abandoning their luggage, Mary and Katherine grabbed Lee and hurried into a winding alleyway. Lee was beginning to lose a fair amount of blood, and that left Katherine and Mary to figure out a plan. They'd been ambushed—no doubt by Templars—but whomever had been on top of the car had flown off when the driver panicked. The Assassins needed to get lost in a crowd.

Gunshots sounded. Lee gasped as a bullet entered his brain and he fell dead on the ground. Katherine shouted when two more entered her left shoulder and sent her sprawling on the ground. Mary moved quickly to grab Katherine and yank her into cover, then chanced a look over her shoulder to try to identify their assailant, yet there was no one. Well, street-level, anyhow. Mary looked up and saw a man in a heavy black overcoat with a cowl drawn over his head and a mask covering his face, up to his nose. The Templar crest was blatant on his shoulder, as was the gun in his hand.

The gun lowered, and the man stepped off the roof. He plummeted to the ground and landed hard on his feet, but didn't appear to be in any sort of discomfort from the landing. He then began his slow march forward toward the Assassins. Mary's rage boiled in her veins at the mere sight of him.

Katherine clutched her shoulder and tried to apply pressure to her wound. She was too shocked to cry from the stinging pain but was glad of it, since she had no intention to let Mary poke fun at her for it. Just as she thought of Mary, Katherine looked at the Scot. She was frozen in her place, struggling with herself. With one hand she had her gun and the other was holding Katherine's arm.

Mary managed to gather some sense of herself and looked at Katherine. "Katherine," hissed Mary, "_run_. We're not ready for this yet."

Katherine, of course, knew exactly what Mary meant, but she felt the need to confirm it with her own eyes. She glanced over the garbage bin they took cover behind and saw the Assassin-hunter stepping over Andrew Lee's body. The hunter slowly and deliberately slid his rapier out from its sheathe on his hip as he advanced.

He came too close for comfort. Mary grabbed her weapon and fired four times, hitting him square in the chest with each shot. He hollered and dropped to one knee, but after a few painful seconds her staggered to stand and continued his dread march.

"Holy God..." Katherine whispered.

Mary stepped out from behind cover. "Go! I'll distract him! I'll catch up!"

"Are you insane—?!"

Mary drew her sword and lifted Katherine to her feet. "I said go, lassie!"

Katherine was loathe to, and as per her usual defiance she grabbed her gun and fired a few more shots at the approaching Templar, one managing to hit him squarely in the forehead. He collapsed in a heap on the ground.

"We're partners, Mary!" Katherine shouted at the Scot. "Stop giving me orders and start working with me! Besides, that bastard's the one who killed my—!"

"GODDAMMIT, WE NEED TO MOVE!" Mary nearly shoved Katherine away from the Assassin-hunter in an effort to escape. Confused, Katherine held her ground.

"What the hell are you yelling about?! He's down!" she argued.

There was horror in Mary's eyes. Horror and grief that Katherine couldn't understand. But before Katherine could even give Mary a chance to explain, there were more gunshots. Mary shouted and stumbled back. Two bullet wounds bled from her right thigh, but she managed to keep standing. She reached to grab Katherine as the American turned, shocked by the sudden attack, and then she realized Mary's horror.

The Assassin-hunter was on his knee again, his gun pointed at Katherine as he looked down the sights. She could just barely see a thin trail of blood from his forehead that stained his mask. She was petrified by the sight of him.

With a swift but staggering speed Mary leapt forward with her sword and knocked the weapon out of the Assassin-hunter's hand then drove her sword into his back, pinning him to the ground. When she yanked it out of him she kicked him hard in the face then spun and grabbed Katherine, and they began to flee.

But Katherine couldn't shake the sight of the Assassin-hunter that burned like a brand in her mind. Shot seven times, once in the head, and still alive, still marching towards his target.

The man that killed her brothers was a _monster_.

The man that was targeting both Katherine and Mary was an unstoppable, unbeatable _monster_.

_Just what have the Templars done?_ she wondered. _What horrors have they committed?_

The answer was waiting in Auschwitz.


	7. The Fallen

Chapter Six:

The Fallen

_**Near Edinburgh, United Kingdom, 1943**_

"Six weeks?!" hollered Katherine as she leapt from the medical cot. "I can't be laying in bed for six weeks! I've a job to do!"

Aboard the HMS _Gallant_, Doctor Samuel Jackson sighed at the American girl and took some tweezers from his bloody tray. She was seething at him and ready to get up and run, but there was nowhere to go about the ship. And besides, some Assassins who were part of His Majesty's army were standing guard at the door to the medical bay. They'd stop her before she could even think of the word "freedom".

Doctor Jackson calmly had her lay back down and offered her a tightly-bundled cloth. She stuck it in her mouth and bit down, her eyes squeezing shut as he began to lower the tweezers towards her wound.

"You have been ranting and raving for some time, Miss Prince," said the doctor. Katherine felt the stinging flare of the tweezers at the flesh in her wound and bit down harder. Tears pricked at her eyes, threatening to fall. "Honestly, it's a miracle Mrs. Helling managed to drag you here, even with that leg of hers."

One bullet was carefully removed from her shoulder. Katherine could have cried with relief, but there was still one more to go. Instead, she shook with terror. Somewhere further down the wing she could hear a man still whimpering from the wound he'd suffered weeks ago—a wound that literally cost him an arm and a leg.

Doctor Jackson put a firm hand on Katherine's left arm to keep her steady and began lowering his tweezers towards the second of her two wounds. "And I know you deeply desire to avenge your brothers, Miss Prince, but in six weeks the Assassin-hunter will still be active. If you don't care for yourself, in six weeks, you'll be a prone doll with no left arm for your hidden blade."

The good doctor, unfortunately, had to wrestle the second bullet out. Katherine was just glad he'd put a hand on her arm, or she may have made things a bit worse. Once Doctor Jackson had disinfected the wounds and sewn them, he allowed Katherine to sit up. She wiped her face with a nearby blanket to liberate herself of the tears.

"How's Mary?" Katherine asked once she removed the cloth from her mouth.

Doctor Jackson smiled faintly and began wrapping bandages around her shoulder. "I have her in preparation. Mrs. Helling first has to get her other wounds looked at before I can operate."

"Other wounds?" repeated Katherine, and in her head she wondered, _Mrs. Helling?_

Jackson gestured to his right side, which told Katherine all she needed to know. Whatever was under those bandages was serious, and took precedent over the bullet wounds that were bleeding her.

Katherine gulped and allowed the man to guide her arm into a sling. When it was tied, she cradled it close. "May I see her?"

He pursed his lips and muttered, almost regretfully, "She asked not to be disturbed, and rather that you get your rest."

Katherine looked at the floor and appeared every bit like a dejected child. Since that incident in London, Mary had, on her bad leg, led the American back into the breast of London's busy life and managed to evade the Templars. Once they'd discovered a safehouse, Mary borrowed a vehicle. Katherine insisted on driving to the destination since Mary was bleeding out badly, and after some make-shift tourniquets were applied Katherine let Mary direct her where to go: to the HMS _Gallant_, an Assassin ship with the banners of His Majesty's royal army. It still participated in war, but usually only in conflicts that involved Templars and many Assassins that were required to carry out a high-stakes mission. As Mary and Katherine were only two people hunting a single, terrifying opponent, they would be unable to make use of the vessel. But it was an emergency, and they'd needed its aid.

"I'll tell you what," said the doctor, "you may walk about the ship for a while, but don't over-exert yourself. The sooner you get in your bed-rest, the better."

An assistant came by to help the doctor pack up and clean his tools while Katherine found her way out the door, glad to see no Assassins following her. Then again, with the amount of Assassins on the ship she was likely to be monitored, even a little bit. The small blessing of freedom was likely to be her last for a while, at least until she was on the brink of cabin fever.

Despite what Doctor Jackson had advised, Katherine decided to find out where Mary was. "Mrs. Helling." Was that an alias? But why would she need one for the Assassins? Joseph Hall had referred to her as MacKenzie, as did Mary herself. Was Mary hiding something, or merely withholding information? Katherine didn't like it either way.

_Mary seemed to know something about the Assassin-hunter we encountered..._ Katherine shivered at the mere thought of him, ignorant of the hot sun on the deck of the ship. He'd felt so dark, as if he'd never once differentiated right from wrong. Killing was his sole reason to live...

What horrid things were being attempted at Auschwitz?

Katherine's thoughts returned to her brothers. Henry and Nathaniel's bodies had been left by the Templars to rot where they died. By the time the Assassins put together a recovery team, they were hardly recognizable, save for their matching tattoos—a brand of the inscription of the year the two boys had joined the army, before the war, as well as the year they had finished their apprenticeship training to become fully-fledged Assassins. Different dates were on their shoulders, but they'd been made to match. She could remember her mother's wails like they'd been screamed only yesterday.

Katherine's mind was clouded with memories, and before she knew it the time had passed by swiftly. A whole hour she'd been on deck staring at the North Sea remembering her brothers with fondness, and then she heard a strange tapping approaching her. She turned to observe the sound and was surprised to see Mary leaning on a crutch with her right side. Her leg was even more bandaged up than before, but she grinned like she'd just won a drinking contest against the hardened sailors aboard the HMS _Gallant_.

"Och, I'm sorry, lassie," Mary said with a friendly but snide tone. "Did I interrupt yer philosophy time?"

"Mary!" exclaimed Katherine. "You shouldn't be out of bed! You lost a lot of blood—!"

Mary waved her off and limped to the railing. "I'm fine, Miss Prince. It int the worst thing I've ever faced."

Despite that, the Scot did, indeed, look pale. But Katherine knew that Mary had been right: they were peas in a pod, and if Katherine told Mary to get back to bed Mary would jab Katherine with the crutch until she was bruised and back in her own bed.

"I'm glad your leg wasn't amputated," Katherine meekly settled for. "I was worried for a while."

"As was I," Mary admitted, then her own thoughts drifted towards the sea, and Katherine saw a grin on Mary's face she'd never seen before. "Ach, it's good tae be here. I can smell home, feel the wind on my face and taste the sea air that smells of rank fish..."

Katherine, before she'd gone to Europe, had never been to the ocean. But she understood the familiarity of feeling like home. It had barely been a few weeks and, admittedly, she was homesick. The breaks in between the search for the Assassin-hunter was something she did not look forward to.

_I still need to send a letter to mother and father,_ she thought absently.

"So..." Katherine cleared her throat. "The doctor referred to you as Mrs. Helling..."

The smile on Mary's face faded. Being on Mary's right side, Katherine could barely see her other eye, but noticed the change in demeanour. "Aye..." mumbled the Scot. "I go by my maiden name within the Assassins. I'm a married woman, in truth. Mary Helling's the name outside the Assassins."

"You're married?!"

Now that Katherine thought about it, Mary had been avoiding answering that sailor back at the Lamb and Flag when he'd brought up men. She'd noticed the change in her then, too.

"Did you have a falling-out?" asked Katherine.

"No," replied Mary, "but I'd rather not dwell on this, if ye dannae mind."

"Why not?"

"I just..." Mary fell silent, and her right hand rose to touch the bandaged side of her face. She closed her eyes. "Let's just say the wounds are still fresh, lassie. I'd rather not have them become infected."

"And yet you pry into my personal life. You deal blows about my heritage, my family, and about my methods—or at least the methods I can sneak into your hefty curriculum, since you barely even listen to me!"

"I'm sorry, what was that, lassie?" Katherine's face reddened in rage, but Mary's broke into a grin again. "Ach, I'm just pulling yer breeks. So, ye've got a problem with how I'm not listening?"

"_Yes_!" exclaimed Katherine in a harsh breath.

"Hm. That's a bother." Despite saying so, Mary didn't appear bothered by it at all. "Let's look back, shall we? In Vienna, ye wanted tae stop and read through papers while the man who's sending the Assassin-hunters out ran off laughing. In London ye saw fit tae try and sneak up on an armed and clearly unstable Assassin slowly killing himself with whiskey. And then ye wanted tae get close tae that walking corpse coming after us!"

The impulse to simply stamp her foot was great, but Katherine managed to resist it, at least for the time being. Her curiosity had once again been overpowered by Mary's words.

The young Assassin turned to look at Mary with keen sight in her eyes. "Wait: Assassin-_hunters_? _Walking_ _corpses_?"

Mary considered her words carefully. "I've been doing some thinking, Miss Prince," admitted the Scot. "Auschwitz had a terrible reputation from the get-go. The Assassin-hunter attacks began around that area even before it was formally established. The Assassin-hunter never left witnesses or survivors, but now I think I have a theory, strange as it may be." She hesitated again. "What have ye heard of Those Who Came Before? Or Pieces of Eden, for that matter?"

"Only what little the Assassins have deigned to share with me. Even my mother avoids the subject. Why?"

Mary stood as straight as she could (she was still leaning on a crutch, after all) and began to head to the aft of the ship, towards the bridge. "C'mon, ye bairn. It's about time ye got informed."

Katherine grinned wildly and quickly caught up with Mary, due in no small part to the Scot's injury. "Really?" she eagerly exclaimed. "Just like that? No tests or poking or prodding—?"

"I might have ye shut up for a wee bit, if ye dannae mind."

Mary led Katherine to the bridge, where the elder of the Assassins knocked heartily four times on the steel door. It was answered by the ship's mate, Luke Mochrie, who was a second-generation Englishman with his grandfather's Scottish surname. The captain of the HMS _Gallant_ stood nearby peering through a telescope to scan the horizon as the helmsman steered the ship. The latter was called Victor Price, and the former Gregory Wood.

The captain, Gregory Wood, was an acquaintance of Mary, as was evident by the nod Luke received from him to allow them entry. Mary hobbled inside, though not without some difficulty because the bottom of the door was elevated.

"I thought the good doctor was to tell you to remain in bed, Miss MacKenzie," grumbled the captain. "What stubborn quest brings you here?"

While Luke closed the door behind Mary and Katherine, Mary said, "I have a theory about the Assassin-hunter Katherine and I have been chasing. It requires Miss Prince to know fully the machinations of the Pieces of Eden."

The captain's grizzled, white-clustered beard lowered while his mouth tipped into a frown. He gave Katherine a piercing but inquisitive glare. "Mary," he said as he continued to hold the American's gaze, "you shouldn't be offering free passes to the club, you know."

"As I said, Mister Wood, it has everything tae do with our pursuit of the Assassin-hunters."

And much like Katherine, Captain Wood looked to Mary. "Assassin-_hunters_?" he echoed.

"Aye," said Mary. "Do ye mind?"

After a moment's thought, Wood gestured to the map table sitting in the centre of the bridge. Luke Mochrie pressed a hidden button underneath a corner of it, and the surface slowly rotated until it revealed the Assassin charts and research beneath. It was hidden there so it would be difficult for Templars or the Axis Powers to find anything other than star-charts—Gregory Wood's hobby.

A Master Assassin himself, Captain Wood approached the table and jabbed a finger at London. "I heard you only encountered one back in the United Kingdom," challenged the wayfarer. "So I'm interested to hear what you have to say."

"Well, yer not going tae like it." Mary placed her crutch against the table so she could support herself there. "We got a lead from our friend Andrew Lee. He said Auschwitz was our best bet. As ye know, we were ambushed by Richard Cole and his Assassin-hunter.

"Here's where it confused me: reports say the Assassin-hunter is shorter than the one who attacked us, has a variety of weapons on hand, and fights like a devil. Not only did this hunter have only a gun and sword on hand, but he advanced like a drone. He dinnae even try tae evade mine and Katherine's shots, as if a wound was the least of his concerns."

"I shot him in the head and it only staggered him," added Katherine.

"Aye," agreed Mary. "Any normal person cannae survive that without serious repercussions. I can therefore come tae the conclusion that, at the very least, the Assassin-hunter we encountered was manufactured by the Templars, and I believe it tae have been done with the Piece of Eden we failed tae collect from Adolf Hitler."

Captain Wood's eyes lingered on the map. "... You think they're unlocking the Apple's secrets?"

"Aye. At the very least, we now have evidence that Assassin-hunters are _very_ hard tae kill."

"If any of them can truly be put down," mumbled Katherine.

Mary's eyes were alight with confidence. "The key is Auschwitz. There's no way we can storm the place without provoking German forces and Templar retaliation, so our only option is infiltration. I can have Hall send a few spies into Auschwitz tae gather information, but they'll have tae gain the trust of the Nazi officers tae learn anything more than what horrors we are already aware of."

"And that could take months..." Wood scratched his beard. "Perhaps years. One of these sides may have won the war by then."

"Gives me enough time tae fill Miss Prince in, then." Mary finally turned to regard Katherine. "Throughout history, the Assassins and Templars have not only warred over their beliefs for mankind's direction for the future, but also for powerful artefacts called 'Pieces of Eden'. We believe they can help us tae tip the scales in our favour. If ye recall, people such as Altaïr Ibn-La'Ahad, Ezio Auditore da Firenze and Connor Kenway possessed such things at some point in their lifetimes. And that's only in our Brotherhood. Genghis Khan, King Arthur, Perseus... Each wielded a powerful Piece of Eden crafted by Those Who Came Before—the Precursor Race, if ye will—and commanded their brethren with its power.

"And now, an Apple of Eden is in the clutches of the Templars. But the Precursor Race dinnae just create the Pieces of Eden; mankind is another creation of theirs. There are some people kicking around our age with a high concentration of Precursor DNA. Only those people can properly use the Pieces of Eden. Anyone else would soon be driven mad."

Katherine paused. "And how would one tell who these people are?" she asked inquisitively.

"Well, Richard Cole is one. Ye can usually tell when they have an ability tae look through a person and their intentions. Me, I'm just talented. But people like Richard Cole can harness that ability and utilize it in the form of 'Eagle Vision'. It's a neat little trick. Helped Cole pick me out from the crowd, I'll give him that. But that's the most common form in a small percentage of the human race, but ye get the idea, aye?"

The information made Katherine nod slowly as she processed everything. There was a very humourless smile that graced the corners of her mouth. "I... understand," she said solemnly. "So, now that I know all this, what will we do about Auschwitz?"

"First, you'll heal up," said Captain Wood dismissively. "Miss MacKenzie, I'll send a message to Mister Hall for you. Go get some rest." He turned his gaze to Katherine. "Miss Prince, I suggest taking it easy for a while. Sit on what you've learned and don't jump into anything. We need to proceed with caution."

Katherine awkwardly crossed her arms. "Oh? And what am I going to be doing for the next six weeks?"

"Captain Wood, we're almost to our destination," announced the helmsman.

He smirked. "Good. Prepare to dock nearby. We'll stay a few days to stock supplies."

"Captain?" insisted Katherine.

Captain Wood nodded courteously to her. "Miss Prince, by the request of Joseph Hall you will be spending your rehabilitation back in your hometown. We'll be heading for Philadelphia."

Katherine was in shock. "A-And Mary?!"

"I'm afraid Edinburgh is my stop for now, lassie," said Mary with a cunning grin. "Be careful with yer arm, but when ye're feeling up tae it, come for a visit. By the time we're both fully-healed our contacts within Auschwitz will have found their way intae the nest of things, and then the real work begins."


	8. This War of Mine

Chapter Seven:

This War of Mine

_**Paris, France, 1944**_

Deep beneath the city of Paris in the bowels of the infamous _Catacombes de Paris_, Mary MacKenzie wiped her hands clean of water with a partly-dirty towel. She stood over a water basin facing a wall of bones and stared into the skull of one of the many nameless foundations of the catacombs. Fire crackled and snapped nearby and illuminated the small alcove she was standing in. The water in the basin was pink with diluted blood.

Behind her, bleeding from the mouth with his hands tied behind him while he himself was bound to a chair with chains, was a Templar spy. Mary began to whistle a tune she was familiar with as she gazed into the fathomless and flickering abyss that was the skull's eyes.

"Ye know," said Mary absently, "I hear tell that there are around six million people who've been made tae be these walls." She stared at the skull indifferently, and briefly pondered who they were. She shrugged and turned to face the man, who was still moaning in pain. A bowl and metal tongs lay beside him on the ground. Scattered within the bowl's coarse metal was bloody teeth. "If ye play yer cards right, laddie, ye won't be added among the count. Unless ye want tae try yer luck with me?"

She approached and placed her hands on the arms of his chair, and then leaned forward. "Way I see it, ye've got one more chance before I rip the last of yer teeth oot, laddie. Will ye tell me what I want tae know? Or will ye like tae join these countless bones?"

The man struggled to speak. Trails of painful tears had been making their way down his face for hours. Mary waited patiently while he spat blood out the side of his mouth. His fingers had been broken hours ago, and now they were twitching to grasp his seat.

"I-I 'unno any'ing," he maintained. "My or'ers were c'ear..."

"Hm." Mary leaned back a bit and made an annoyed sound with her lips. "Ye're a stubborn one, I'll give ye that. Damn shame. And here I thought ye'd help affirm what yer comrades told me..." She shrugged again. "Much more compliant than ye. They got tae keep their teeth. I probably only broke one finger before ye came along. Templars have a loyal man in ye."

The man's eyes, diluted with shock, finally focused on Mary, who grinned at him. "Wha'?"

"Och, they told me everything. Shipment dates, officer names, times they relieve guards in a day... Hell, they even told me when ye stupid buggers go for a piss! But I suppose I dinnae really need ye. The last three told me everything I needed to know and even had the same stories. Ye were just tae make certain." The Scot backed away from the shaking Templar and strode over to a wooden table in the corner, where a dagger was left untouched throughout the interrogation. Well, until that moment. Mary picked it up and barely gave it a glance as she approached the man, but she did look disappointed.

He let a sob go and squeezed his eyes shut.

"I'm truly sorry ye dinnae think tae give me information," mumbled Mary. "It would have spared ye of yer suffering, laddie." Mary put the dagger against his throat. "I'll make this quick. May God have mercy on yer soul, and judge ye worthy to whatever afterlife ye believe in. Rest in peace."

Mary cut his throat swiftly, and in seconds the man lay limp in the chair, his head lolled back to expose the bloody gash. Gently, she took his head and bent it forward to conceal it, then took the dirty towel and draped it over his head to preserve his dignity. Furthermore, she undid the chains, and only when she'd made his body comfortable in the chair did she leave the catacombs.

The night was dark and the air chill in the city—the picture of serenity—but occupied Paris was in chaos. Soldiers patrolled the streets endlessly as the fighting within and without intensified. Tensions ran high between the Germans and the French people, and the Germans had been tasked to flush out the rumoured resistance with little success. The United States were also approaching, readying to make a move to liberate the stolen city. The conflict would begin soon, of that, Mary had no doubt.

The Scot glanced back at the entrance to the catacombs and frowned. A knot had formed in her stomach. The information she'd gathered was crucial, but she wasn't certain she could rely on it. Whatever the case, three more bodies had been added to that grave.

Still, that had been the first time she'd interrogated anyone since...

The knot in her stomach tightened, and Mary tore her gaze from the entrance. _Dannae think about it,_ she told herself. _Not now. Not yet._

Mary began walking briskly away from the entrance and kept her eyes ahead. She saw a patrol advance and stuck to the shadows, but it was clear she wasn't about to pass unnoticed. She began climbing the building she'd pressed herself against and ascended with fair speed, enough that any soldiers who'd thought they'd seen her dismissed her as a simple notion, or a ghost in the city. She hauled herself to the rooftop and looked across the landscape. She wasn't far from the resistance's base, she noted, but she had no intention to go there.

_Well, not like this,_ Mary thought, and finally remembered to pull a glove over her exposed right hand.

Mary realized then that someone was watching her. She could feel their gaze on her. She looked around, then saw someone standing at the edge of the rooftop nearby. A cowl was drawn over their face, and their overcoat happened to silhouette enough that Mary was once again reminded of what she avoided thinking about.

They leaped across the rooftops until they'd landed on Mary's, and Mary drew her sword. With a quick-stepping lunge, Mary immediately had them on guard, hidden blade extended to swat away her incoming strike. Mary grinned.

"Ye're moving faster, lassie," said Mary, and she struck out a few more times. Katherine was backed to the edge of the rooftop. "But ye still dannae know how tae press yer advantage."

"Who said I didn't know?" Katherine made a quick side-step and managed to avoid the rooftop's edge. She was grinning. "You seem to be on the bend yourself, Mary."

"It's only been three months. If it were my decision I'd probably be beating a Templar with my crutch." Mary sheathed her sword and offered her hand to Katherine. "Still, it's good tae see ye listened tae the doctor."

"Not by choice, mind." Katherine gripped Mary's hand. "Well, partner, what have you been up to tonight?"

"... Investigating," said Mary. "Gathering what I can on the outside while our agents work within Auschwitz. Operation's going tae be soon."

Katherine released Mary's hand and smiled. "Have a plan?"

"Och, of course!" exclaimed Mary. "But I'll have tae explain later. We cannae dally here. We need tae return to the Maginot Line. The operation's controlled from there."

"That's all well and good, but I'd rather know now." Mary gave Katherine a look, but Katherine shrugged it off. "Or you could not tell me, as usual, and just surprise me with it later."

"Trust me, ye'll be surprised."

Mary led the way while the two navigated the rooftops until they'd deemed it safe to descend. They crept in shadow to evade the tanks and German convoys.

"So, why weren't you in Edinburgh when I came to visit?" Katherine asked quietly.

Mary frowned. "Tae be honest, I needed a change of scenery. I wasn't doing anyone any good tied down, so I began doing Hall's reports. Ye remember how many he had on his desk when we met? It dinnae get smaller, I can tell ye that."

"I can imagine he was grateful."

"He owes me a few drinks, aye."

They hurried across a street and didn't stop until they were well in darkness again. "How does Auschwitz look?"

"Like a shit hole." Mary scanned the square ahead. "It's gotten worse over the last few months, lassie. Our agents were almost caught a few times, but thankfully they managed tae divert the blame. If they'd died, we'd have naw way tae get ye out."

"I can imagine it must be hard to—wait, what did you just say? What about me getting out?"

Mary pursed her lips and looked sheepishly back at Katherine. "Did I say anything? Ye must be hearing things."

"_I did not_! What the hell have you been planning, Mary MacKenzie?!"

"Och, just a, uh, wee bit of espionage, is all..."

"Into _Auschwitz_!"

"Shh!" Mary looked around sharply. "Now's not the time anyhow, lassie. I'll explain when we get tae the Maginot Line, aye? Less chance of us being overheard by someone unsavoury."

_/-\_

_**Near**_ _**Maginot Line, Lille, France, 1944**_

A long day's travel later, Mary and Katherine arrived and began preparing for a debriefing with Joseph Hall and a few other high-ranking Assassins, although Katherine had half an idea what it was already about. Auschwitz, clearly, but Katherine would be doing some spy-work. That unsettled her. Hear-say gave the camp no credit and made medieval torture look like a pleasant afternoon stroll.

So what was Mary plotting?

Mary had really no plot—only ideas and facts, and all to be pitched yet. Whether the Assassins who would gather to listen to her plan would allow her to carry it out was another story. It was lunacy, but it was also their best chance, and Mary wasn't going to waste three good agents within Auschwitz without trying anything.

Mary shrugged off her coat and hung it on the back of a chair with little care that it was trailing on the floor. She took a conservative sip of wine as she reviewed her notes while Katherine watched her from a corner. Since Mary had interrogated those Templars in _Catacombes de Paris_ only a few more had been added, but based on her analysis she assumed the Assassins would agree with her trying—if not radical—plan into Auschwitz.

"Mary?" called Katherine quietly.

"Aye?" replied the Scot.

Katherine reached into her knapsack, which was some of the only luggage she'd brought this time around, having learned her lesson to be a bit more careful when packing. She pulled out two bottles of alcohol, chilled by their train ride but had since warmed up a bit, and tossed one to Mary. The Scot caught it deftly and held it aloft to examine it.

"Ye bought me a beer, lassie?" Mary asked with a smug grin.

Katherine smiled back. "Well, you said you wanted to make your way to America sometime. I thought I'd bring a bit of my home back to you." Katherine used the edge of the table to pry the cap off and took a quick drink. "My father swore by this stuff before he went overboard."

Mary did the same with her cap and took a quick gulp. She made a scrunched-up face that Katherine recognized—Mary didn't like the drink.

"Well?" she asked, knowing the answer.

With a grimace, Mary said, "Ye Americans... Yer beers are like making love in a canoe."

"Pardon?"

"It's fucking close tae water."

Even Katherine had to grin at that, and despite Mary's complaints she gladly downed the beer before returning to the wine on-hand.

"Is there anything I can help with?" Katherine asked tentatively.

Mary paused. "Actually, there is," she said. "I need yer consent."

"About Auschwitz, right?"

"Aye." Mary's fingers began tapping on the wooden table. "... I'd have asked someone else, but I had a feeling ye wouldnae be keen having someone else do the job." She pushed a piece of paper towards Katherine. Someone had written correspondence by typewriter, though it was in code, but thankfully it was already deciphered. Katherine noted Mary's writing was remarkably clean and delicate—something she didn't expect from a Scot with bad drinking habits. "That explains the details."

Katherine picked up the paper and read aloud, "Can smuggle one Assassin in by train. Comrades and I will keep an eye on them. No special treatment. Will be branded like the rest. Put to work. Lethality high. Have to wait for opportunity. Erratic schedule soon to settle. Extraction only available if cover isn't blown."

"Ye can back oot if ye want, Katherine," said Mary with a sombre tone. "It's dangerous, and can only be attempted once. The Templars will be on tae us otherwise. I'd go myself, but I cannae pass for a Jew and I certainly wouldnae make a very convincing German."

"And since I know German...?"

"Ye look it, as well." Mary straightened. "All we need is information. What's coming oot of Auschwitz, and how are they doing it? That's all. Any intelligence ye gather would be worthwhile. But I want ye tae make the decision. Are ye going?"

Katherine looked down at the paper. A chance to find the person who killed her brothers... It infuriated her that the one who'd put her on bed-rest hadn't been the one, and it terrified her that he—_it_—hadn't died. It was a monster. If Mary was right about the multiple Assassin-hunters, how many more were like that? How many more were beyond that point, and now purely indestructible?

"We have no time to look for someone willing for a suicide mission," reasoned Katherine. She met Mary's only visible eye with determination in her own. "I'll go. Don't worry about me."

Mary smiled, though it appeared more like satisfaction than glee. "If that's yer wish, lassie."

Moments later, Mary was guiding Assassins into the room. Meantime, she'd had Katherine set up a projector to play film against the wall. Once everyone was seated and Katherine had finished with the projector, Mary nodded to them. Katherine stood against the wall to Mary's right.

"Evening all," greeted the Scot. "Some of ye know me, some of ye dannae. For those not yet acquainted, the name's Mary MacKenzie. This here—." Mary gestured to Katherine.

"Katherine Prince," announced the American.

Mary nodded to Katherine and gave her an appreciative wink, then regarded the Assassins again. Katherine recognized Joseph Hall amongst the five.

"We're here tae tell ye our plan tae infiltrate Auschwitz and gather evidence and intelligence of our most recent development in the hunt for the Assassin-hunter. Any questions?"

"Yes," spoke one French Master Assassin. "Why are we gathered here? Why don't you just... act?"

Mary smirked. "Master Adolphe Laurent, I assume?"

"You assume correct, _Mademoiselle_ MacKenzie."

"To answer, _Monsieur_—." Katherine held in a giggle at the Scot's attempt at French. "—I am no Master Assassin. I have been assigned this task by Joseph Hall, seated among ye. I cannae act without yer approval. Also... this almost certainly a suicide mission."

A snort rose up from the table. "And you expect us to give consent for a suicide mission of _intelligence_?"

Mary's eyes settled on the second Master Assassin. "Aye, I hope ye do, Master Bram Vanderkamp. Its importance shouldnae be lost on ye. We _need_ tae gather this information tae properly assess the threat."

"It's only a single Assassin-hunter," grumbled a third elderly Master Assassin, who clearly held no joy in being there. "Dropping a bomb on them will kill them like the rest."

"It's not just one, Master Carlisle," interjected Hall. "Craig, Mary sent me a message a few months ago about her suspicions."

The fourth and final Master Assassin's brow rose in surprise. "Ah, yes. I recall your report, Joseph," she said, and nodded to assure him. "It was an interesting read, if not a bit vague."

"I wanted to press the issue, but with so many of us stretched thin with the war, I decided to let Mary and Katherine have some respite. It wasn't my call to make, but they needed it."

"A wise decision. I heard about their wounds. I'm glad to see them both safe."

"Wait," put in Vanderkamp, "there was a report?"

Mary smirked when she saw the internal battle Hall was having with himself in an effort to stop himself from rolling his eyes or, God-forbid, strangling the Master Assassin. "_Yes_," he said, unable to hide a tone of bitterness. "There was. _Months_ ago."

"Hm. Sorry I missed it. I was on vacation in Canada."

"I wasn't aware one could just up and leave a war to vacation in _Canada_..." grumbled Katherine, which had Mary struggling not to giggle.

Mary took out her pocket watch and checked the time while the Masters bickered and debated amongst themselves, with only Hall, Laurent, and Master Assassin Josephine Dubois. When five solid minutes had passed, Mary grinned and shouted obnoxiously over the cloud of voices:

"Ach! Would ye look at that, lassie!" Mary's booming and boisterous Scottish voice quickly consumed the room and had the Master Assassins fall silent, wondering what Mary had to say. "Five whole minutes have passed. They must really like our company tae stall us for five minutes! That's magic!"

A presumptuous upturning of the nose was what Mary received from Vanderkamp, but she once again held the room's attention.

"Ye needn't worry about resources, agents, or the Assassin willing tae enter Auschwitz," Mary explained in a much calmer, but far more grim demeanour. "I've had agents placed in Auschwitz under the guise of officers. As far as resources, we need only take the train. Katherine Prince has volunteered tae enter the camp under the guise of a German rebel, and will bravely risk her neck tae get us the information." Mary's eyes narrowed. "Ye might wonder why we're going through these lengths only for information. And since most of ye dinnae read Hall's report, I'll tell ye swift: there's more than one Assassin-hunter, of that I'm sure. The Assassin-hunter I know was shorter than the one Katherine and I faced in London. There's no report of the one who attacked the brothers Prince, so I find it safe tae assume there's at least two.

"Just as well, there's a mighty chance the Apple of Eden that we failed tae recover years ago from Adolf Hitler and Richard Cole is involved, but that could just be a longshot. However, if it is, we need tae know. The Templars have used the Piece of Eden tae instigate this war, and now we must put an end tae it. But our first priority should be the Assassin-hunters. They're threats tae the safety of our fellow Assassins, and if we let them roam free we'll never get close to the Apple.

"So, tae recap: infiltrate Auschwitz, gather intelligence, destroy the Assassin-hunters, find Richard Cole and Adolf Hitler, eliminate them and take the Piece of Eden."

"Yes, but..." Master Laurent leaned forward, his brow knitting as he thought. "Even with the Apple, to free the German people from its influence we'll need someone who can wield it. Someone with the Sight, or some form of it. Otherwise it would drive anyone lesser into madness."

Mary nodded. "It has that ability, aye, but not always. Pieces of Eden are living tools, and like the Old Gods they're fickle. Much like the legends we have of them. But aye, I agree, though we should postpone the search for one with the Sight until after we have the Apple. Keeping our brothers and sisters safe is what's important right now."

"Let's just take it one step at a time," interjected Katherine, who finally stepped forward. "Focus on Auschwitz. Mary has all the information needed."

"Aye, that's true." Mary strode to the projector and turned it on. "All right. So we've done some reconnaissance of the camp... Here you'll see the main barracks for the German and Templar guards..."

Katherine couldn't help but drown out Mary's analysis of Auschwitz. Her nervousness was beginning to affect her. It wasn't just the thought of entering that hell-hole that shook her—it was that Katherine would have to come clean. To Mary especially. Why she hadn't revealed herself before, she could barely remember. Maybe it was because she thought her peer would judge her, or be angry with her in some way.

Those fears kept her from revealing that she had the Sight—Eagle Vision, as most commonly knew it—but for just a while longer she wanted it to be only her knowledge. If Mary and the other Master Assassins knew, they'd never let her leave Maginot Line. They'd coddle her and keep her close until they got the Apple, and Katherine wasn't about to let anyone get in the way of herself and the truth—of Auschwitz and the connection to her brothers.

They'd never let her leave on that suicide mission. Was that so hard to understand?

A part of Katherine hoped dearly that they would understand. Another knew they'd be furious the moment she declared herself.

Except Mary. Mary was a wildcard. So secretive herself, Katherine only felt it was an obligation to keep a few secrets of her own. Mary trusted Katherine with her life, but tried desperately not to speak of herself.

But it was just as Mary had said before, months ago: they were peas in a pod. Katherine would have to tell Mary about her connection to the First Civilization sooner-or-later, just like Mary would have to reveal her past.

It was inevitable.


	9. Work Sets One Free

Chapter Eight:

Work Sets One Free

_**Auschwitz, German Empire, 1944**_

The pain on Katherine's inner-forearm lingered like a bad tune, though much more resolutely. In black a number was forever etched into her skin as if she was a piece of parchment. But she was glad for the pain, if only to remind her that she wasn't being sent to death.

It had been like a dream—a nightmare, rather—once the Master Assassins passed Mary's motion to allow an investigation into Auschwitz. They almost immediately had her on the train, where she was crammed within like a sardine in a can. If it hadn't been for Mary's five-minute-long farewell Katherine would have thought the Master Assassins were all too eager to enter Auschwitz.

The camp was large, totalling well over one-hundred-fifty-thousand people living, and even more dead. By some stroke of luck Katherine was not to be put to work moving the bodies, and while she didn't know what she would be doing she was relieved it wasn't that. She thought, at the very least, she would be made to work on weapons for the Axis war effort.

Her rapport with the registration officer had been brief and filled with disgust. Mary had told her exactly what part she would play: she'd once been a German loyalist, but used that front to smuggle Jews out of Poland. Mary had smirked when she added Katherine's reason for changing sides.

"Apparently," Mary had said, "ye've got a fancy for Jewish men."

Katherine had rolled her eyes at that, and she did so in the camp with the mere memory of it.

_If Mary's reports are right, Richard Cole and the Assassin-hunters may have been sighted near the administration office..._ Katherine shuffled along the line of new inmates while keeping her eyes peeled. Eventually she sighted administration and observed it. It was built of brick, and based on her own limited knowledge of architecture it was done fairly poorly with the intent to be built as quickly as possible. _Corners were cut. Should be easy to feel the cold. _Then Katherine spotted a cellar adjacent to the building to go underground. _I'll bet that's used as a secondary entrance..._

As long as I'm here and nowhere near the commandant's house, I should be fine. Katherine bowed her head submissively and followed the detainee entourage while her eyes continuously scanned the area. She tried to memorize the amount of guards, the weapons, physicality, who was lazy, who was alert, prisoners that looked like they would squeal to guards, the lack of the elderly and children around... Misery encompassed the camp like a black haze. Katherine felt overwhelmed by it but didn't let it deter her mission. While she wished she could help, the best Katherine could do for those people was help fight the Templars influencing the German people, though she was discouraged when she saw a few passing officers with smug grins on their faces without the clouded look most Germans carried thanks to the Apple.

_The power of a Piece of Eden..._ Katherine's eyes locked onto those Germans, and an angry look came over her. _It can enthral even those who don't know it. How fickle the desire for power is._

Katherine's observations quickly led her to believe that the weapons would soon far exceed the amount of Axis soldiers following the Third Reich. Why would they make so—?

"Over here." A German guard pointed the line towards a worker's camp with a line of long buildings clearly made to be their hovels. Katherine followed the line and held back a gag. It stunk like rot and bile, and was partially due to the dead being carried out of the place. Some had blunt force trauma wounds while still others seemed to have passed from starvation, abuse, and even typhoid.

A body was lifted from a thin cot over a plank bed, and Katherine was instructed it was now hers. Night had already fallen, so she was to fall asleep with the rest of the prisoners, new and old. Katherine stared at the bed for a while and tried to purge the image of the body from her mind, all the while she lowered herself into the cot and tried to make herself comfortable for the night. But she couldn't forget the woman's face—her eyes that found relief in her own passing.

The next morning Katherine was rudely awakened by a loud horn. Veterans of the camp were already making their way towards the door, and the American followed without question. She kept her eyes firmly ahead of her so she wouldn't be treated with suspicion. The Germans led her and the people around her to a dirty and rancid-smelling shop, where she was sat down, given brief instruction of what to do, and began working.

_I need to find allies,_ she concluded. _I need distractions, and I need to figure out where everyone is answering to. The obvious answer is the administration building, but it could be a front..._

Hours into the day and Katherine had already surmised what her plan was, in the case she found where the Assassin-hunters were coming from. There was a young man seated not far from her who appeared to be the rebellious type, enough to be made an example of a few times a week while not being killed quite yet. She felt he would be eager to help, if only for a chance to get even with the Germans. And there was a girl not far from him that looked better than the rest of the prisoners—she was being cared for, so long as she continued to rat out the schemes and secrets of the prisoners. That was why she seemed to be all but ignored by the German guards pacing and patrolling the grounds.

A German officer—a Templar by the subtle red cufflink on his sleeve—entered the building and scanned the area. Katherine focused on the gun being constructed while he approached some other prisoner, and while she strained to hear what was being said she couldn't discern it from the sounds of the guns. Then the officer began to walk down her aisle. Katherine kept a calm demeanour, and then the door to the workplace opened a second time.

She glanced out the corner of her eye and froze. Entering the building and striding towards the Templar was a figure dressed in a heavy overcoat with a red cross on their shoulder. A hood obscured their face from view and a mask hid what remained. Katherine saw a rapier strapped to their hip, two pistols on their belt, and a knife sheathed on their boot. No one dared look at the person who entered—at the Assassin-hunter.

Katherine's hairs prickled upward when the hunter came to a stop just behind Katherine. The Templar had also halted.

"Were you successful?"

The Assassin-hunter didn't answer. Katherine sorely wished she could just spin around and watch the conversation like a moving picture in the theatre. Was it the one from London? Was it the one who put her brothers to death?

She heard the officer chuckle. "Fine. Well, you know the drill. Hop to it."

The Assassin-hunter took a threatening step forward, but the German tutted his tongue.

"Now, now," said the Templar, "you really don't think you can do anything here? It seems as though someone is in need of re-education."

The step was retracted, though not without hesitation. Katherine could almost feel the German smile.

"Good." He paused. "Now go. He's waiting. And you don't want to make him wait."

Almost like a machine, the Assassin-hunter turned and made their way out the door, and the Templar moved on.

But Katherine was confused. Now she had to act quickly. Get rid of the rat, ally with the punk, follow an enemy into the bowels of their operation... Katherine paused, then smiled a bit to herself. It'll be easy to find a trail. I just need to see another Assassin-hunter and see if I can't tag them somehow with Eagle Vision.

_/-\_

Several weeks passed very quickly in the camp. While Katherine managed to keep her head down and avoid attention, she'd also managed to set the snitch up to fail with false information passed to her by note (thankfully the girl hadn't recognized her afterward), as well as recruit the young man, David, to help create a distraction. He had some connections within the camp that would help as well.

But that was all finished within the first week-and-a-half. Five whole weeks had passed since Katherine had arrived, and she was subject to watching her bunk-mates change almost every few days because of the spread of disease or the body giving out under such harsh circumstances.

But, five weeks into Katherine's imprisonment, opportunity arose. She was working when another Assassin-hunter entered the building. It was stiff, unlike the other one she'd seen but very similar to the one in London, and had only briefly entered to search for the German officer from before. It gave Katherine a chance to utilize her Sight and tag the hunter, then it left behind a trail as it continued its search.

Late in the night when the prisoners were sleeping, Katherine rose and woke David, who quietly rustled his allies from sleep. Two guards stood outside the door to the long hovel. Beyond that were numerous patrols, a few searchlights, and possibly some Assassin-hunters watching for any uprisings.

Thankfully though, one of Mary's agents had already made himself known to Katherine: he was one of the troops standing guard at their door. Katherine gave him a signal, and swiftly he knocked out the second guard. They dragged his body within the hovel, dressed one of David's allies in his uniform, and then hurried out into the night. Katherine's eyes, alight with the use of her Sight, stung from overuse. She hadn't used it in anything but short bursts, and not for several weeks, so this was draining her. But they needed to find the Assassin-hunters. Andrew Lee's information wouldn't be in vain. Besides, Katherine had promised to find a way to get David out of the camp should they succeed.

Katherine followed the trail right to the administration building, and further, to the outdoor cellar. That was when she regained her natural sight and had David begin to cause a ruckus elsewhere in the camp. While he began creating her opportunities, Katherine delved deep into the cellar. It appeared ordinary, but further investigation revealed a secret trapdoor into darkness below. Steeling herself, Katherine grabbed the ladder and slowly made her way down.

Her feet touched the floor a few minutes later, but it was clearly a hundred-foot-drop had there been no ladder. The height was why she couldn't see any artificial light up above, but now that she was in the tunnels she could see dim electric lights leading the way deeper into the tunnel. Steeling herself, Katherine followed and tried to take every opportunity she could to stick to shadow.

Sounds echoed through the concrete tunnels. Katherine recognized moans, screams... People were in pain down below. Why separate them from those above?

The tunnel forked. Katherine breathed deeply and drew upon her Sight again. She could see a dim shining trail and chose to follow it. Wherever that Assassin-hunter was going, she wanted to know. Goosebumps rose on her arms, and the hairs on the back of her neck stood upright. Beyond the screams of the dying, something was terribly amiss below. Katherine could only hope to discover it and leave with everything intact.

What Katherine emerged into, however, was everything she hadn't expected.

Torture. Pure, relentless torture. Nazi officers dismembered and disembowelled those unfortunate enough to be below. Katherine covered her mouth with a hand as she witnessed those horrid events. But she saw the trail, and managing to tear her eyes from the hell she had no chance of rescuing those people from she followed it. Her stomach was knotted as tightly as a ship's rigging. Why? Why did that need to happen? Who condoned that?!

Katherine unexpectedly received her answer when two large hands locked her arms to her sides. She was pulled to a broad chest and struggled, but whomever had her was not one to be deceived by her frame or her gender. She was offered no room.

"Hello again, miss," cooed Richard Cole with a lofty grin on his face. "I remember you, Assassin, though I wasn't privy to your name at the time of our first meeting. I was distracted by your loud-mouthed Scottish friend."

Katherine froze. She felt heavy, like lead. When had he gotten behind her?! She hadn't heard any footsteps but her own!

"But you're like me. You have the Sight. So I'm glad I waited in Auschwitz. I knew Lee would lead you idiots here eventually." She felt him shrug. "A pity he died. Though I'm glad he helped me to see my new toy works."

"New... toy...?" Katherine repeated, almost unsure.

Cole roughly pulled her hands behind her back and slapped some cuffs on her wrists. Katherine noted how he watched and waited for any signs of resistance, and how he seemed to know exactly how Katherine was readying to escape.

"Since you're so eager to see the place, I'll give you a tour." He gave her a harsh shove forward, but his hand never left the chain between her handcuffs. "It'll be your last, as it is, so you'll be my new VIP." He led her down the corridor until they reached an iron door. Cole knocked, it opened, and he ushered her within.

The sight made Katherine's heart stop and sink into her stomach; men and women dangled from chains against the wall, some naked, some not, but all were either drooling or had their bodies convulsing. Some had taken to smashing their heads against the concrete. The guards didn't seem concerned of that in the least... because they had train cars full of people coming in every day.

"Welcome to the re-education room," said Cole. "This will be your new home."


	10. The Descent

Chapter Nine:

The Descent

_**Skidziń, German Empire, 1944**_

"I'm concerned."

Mary said it aloud to confirm it, and partially to console herself. Since she'd put Katherine on the train, five long weeks had passed in an agonizingly slow manner, and each day in solitude. She was stationed about eight kilometres north of Auschwitz, where the population was small but abandoned houses once populated by Polish or Jewish families lay abandoned, either having fled from the horrors in the south or captured by the Nazis.

Mary had spent those five weeks sneaking through the village to steal the food she needed or an extra blanket if things got cold. To keep herself entertained when she wasn't on watch, she'd brought along her large trunk which was made for books, and passed the time reading history or poetry or whatever else she'd shoved into it. Occasionally she'd receive a report from a messenger who would leave as quickly as he'd come; information detailing Katherine's progress from Mary's agents within Auschwitz. Usually, reports came in every two-to-three days. The last report she'd received was five days ago.

"Something's wrong." Mary could feel it in her gut, and her instincts rarely led her astray. She trusted herself more than most; she knew her limits and she understood her abilities, though every so often she'd receive a "feeling" often mistaken for premonitions, odd as it sounded. The lack of reports incited that "feeling". Even if it was meaningless chatter or simple rumours, or even a detailed description of Katherine, Mary's agents always came through to at least let her know the mission hadn't been compromised.

Mary had called it a suicide mission when she'd pitched the idea, but she hoped there wouldn't be a needless loss of life. She paced in the parlour room of one of the abandoned houses she'd made camp in. A small fire barely warmed the place, but it was best to keep it low. She could always add another layer of clothing. Furniture such as desks and chesterfields had been abandoned and had many a hole from the mice and mites scurrying about. Pictures still hung on the wall albeit at a slant that would never had stood in her mother's home years ago.

Sighing, Mary stopped her pacing and cupped her chin. Her tea was waiting, still steaming since she'd stood up with her bad feeling. She absently took a sip and let its warmth run its course through her body as she thought.

_Katherine knows the risks. She volunteered._ Mary's shoulders sagged. _Dammit. That wee bairn cannae succeed on her own..._

The Scot shook her head suddenly. _Naw,_ she told herself. _Katherine's an Assassin. She'll give it her all. Besides, she's got my agents. She needs tae make friends in the camp and figure oot what Andrew Lee was trying tae get at._

"But I have a bad feeling," she whispered. "Something's wrong. I _know_ it."

And that bad feeling was quickly confirmed; Mary could hear the alarms go off in Auschwitz, even as far as she was away from it. Mary immediately headed to the window that would give her the best view and leaned out. Sure enough, the searchlights far in the distance were acting sporadically, as if they were truly searching for something—or someone.

_Well, that does it._ Mary checked her pocket watch slammed her trunk shut. In moments she'd effectively destroyed any evidence she'd been there, grabbed her grey overcoat and headed out the door with trunk in hand. She threw her luggage into an awaiting car, leapt inside and began the drive towards Auschwitz. She sped despite the dangerous road conditions made especially more dangerous without her headlights on. Still, Mary had memorized the road. She could probably drive it blindfolded if she absolutely had to, though she preferred not.

When she was close to the concentration camp, Mary pulled into a ditch with brush to conceal her vehicle and hopped out. She whipped her hood over her face and used the loudness of the alarms to cover the sounds of her sprinting towards the camp. There was a mass riot that was swiftly being brought under control by the guards despite their numbers. The people were not keen to be shot with machine guns, and they knew the guards had the ammunition to kill everyone there. But Mary was able to knock out a guard near the entrance and steal his keys into the camp. She left the gate barely open for her escape later (if she did manage it). The uproar within the camp allowed Mary ample opportunity to search for cover and stick to stealth, though she hurried. She had no idea when the alarms would end and the guards would resume their patrol routines.

_Go, dammit!_ Mary knocked out two more guards before stopping herself. _Goddammit! Where's the lass?!_

Mary took a deep breath to slow her panic. If Katherine wasn't dead, she was surely captured. But where would they—?

Administration! That was the only obvious place, and surely well-guarded. More so than the camp itself, even! Taking another deep breath, that time to centre her thoughts and bring back the Assassin Mary MacKenzie rather than the concerned Mary Helling, Mary chose a red brick building to be administration, and was gladdened to see the plaque on the side confirming it. The guards were stationed outside and there was a patrol walking continuously around the building. She waited near a corner, crouched to reduce visibility, and when she noticed their attention had gone elsewhere Mary rushed out in the open and to a shack not far from the building. She hid behind it, waiting for the guards to pass by, then made a second break for it. Cellar doors leading down were her first choice of entry, but when Mary gave it a short tug she found it locked. Holding in her curse, Mary scrambled to find a foothold on the building and scaled the building to a nearby window on the third floor. The guards patrolling below didn't even look up as Mary hung from the rooftop.

Mary swung her body into an open window and landed with a roll. A guard at the door peered inside, and Mary ensured to deliver a hard punch to the face to the curious man. He hit the wall and then the ground, dazed and confused but not out, so Mary gave him another punch to put him to sleep. A second guard came to investigate and quickly received an elbow to the gut. Mary wasted no time in knocking him out as well and carefully leaned him against the wall, then she entered room after room in the hopes she would discover some sort of clue.

She'd made her way down to the second floor and three more guards were sleeping soundly before she found anything of use. A Nazi—Templar, rather; she could see the emblem on his sleeve's cuff—made his way further down the steps. He was speaking in rapid German to another party Mary couldn't see. She followed quietly as they made their way down to the basement, where the cellar doors outside would have led. The Templar seemed to be reprimanding a younger soldier for leaving an oddly-placed trapdoor opened, and kicked it shut as he yelled.

Mary slowly entered the cellar, grabbed a bottle of wine on her way in and clubbed the officer over the side of the head with it. The bottle smashed and the Nazi fell forward, and before the young soldier could shout Mary's fist hit his throat. He gurgled and stumbled back. Mary advanced and grabbed his head, then slammed it against the concrete hard enough to jar him, but not kill him. He slumped into a sitting position as the officer groaned. Mary approached the trapdoor, gave the Templar a kick in the head, then swung the trapdoor open.

_If she's anywhere, it'll be the suspicious trapdoor in the wine cellar._ Mary smirked, grabbed the ladder and descended quickly into the darkness. She only slowed when she heard echoing footsteps from below. She quietened and glanced down. There was barely enough light to see a man about to ascend the ladder. Mary released her grip and flew down, landing with all her weight on the man. Together they smashed against the ground, though Mary used him to save herself, rolled to reduce the damage to her body and leapt upwards just in time to twist the wrist of a second man pointing a gun at her. She broke his limb, forcing him to drop the weapon, and slammed her head against his. With a punch to his face as a follow-up he was quickly out cold. The blood pooling from beneath the other man's head already confirmed he hadn't survived the fall, so Mary paid him no heed and stealthily crept through the tunnels ahead.

And then the tunnel forked. Mary's brow furrowed. There was no dirt on the floor so there was no sure way to decide which way Katherine had either gone or been taken to. Frowning, Mary grabbed a quarter from her pocket, flipped and caught it, then decided based on her result. She went right. Apparently, luck was with her; she discovered a horde of horrendous machinations and terror. No doubt those poor people were from the train. Was Katherine among them? She couldn't see well enough.

Mary couldn't find a way in, so she chose to continue deeper into the bowels of the Templar operation. It made her blood boil with rage to see such horrors and know that it was the free will allotted to the Templars that brought them to do such acts. Times like these made her question the Creed, but knowing the alternative kept her on the path she'd chosen years ago.

Calling upon her oldest and most foreign piece of training, Mary breathed deeply and crept forward until her footsteps were silent as the grave. She could hear no one approach, so she hurried and risked her footfalls being heard, though she doubted it considering how loudly some of the prisoners were screaming or moaning.

An iron door soon presented itself to hear. Mary reached for the handle but hesitated. Was there some sort of code? Something she needed to clear first? Mary set her jaw, raised her arm and grabbed the handle. With a push it swung slowly inward. Mary stepped within and gawked at the sight before her. The prisoners before had merely been in pain, but it appeared these ones were mad. They frothed at the mouth, hit their heads against the concrete and whimpered much like animals. Mary managed to tear her gaze from the worst of them and slowly walked down the hall. Alarms were screaming in her head. There were no guards around. Something was desperately wrong.

And then Mary found Katherine strapped to the wall in chains, much like the others, though only beaten and bruised. She wasn't frothing at the mouth like the others. Mary hurried to the wall and gave Katherine a few gentle slaps on the cheek to try rousing her, and when that succeeded in a small part Mary set to examining the irons on Katherine's wrist.

"Dammit, Katherine!" Mary seethed. "Why'd ye have tae go and get yerself caught?!"

Katherine blinked erratically, then managed to focus her energies into sight. Her eyes widened. "Mary!" exclaimed Katherine. "W-What... Why are you here?!"

"I'm here tae have a cup of tea and some biscuits with the Templars, obviously!" Mary pursed her lips and began searching through the room for keys or something to cut through the chains. "Or some wine. I may have wasted some upstairs, mind."

"Mary, you can't be here! He was looking for someone like you and you've basically fallen into his lap!"

Mary grabbed a sturdy saw and hurried to return to Katherine. "What're ye talking about, lassie?"

While Mary set to work, Katherine hissed, "Cole! Cole's here! H-He tried to use something on me, but it didn't work how he liked so..." Katherine's hands balled into fists. Mary could see she was barely holding tears at bay. "He got the Assassin-hunter who killed my brothers to beat me. Then they said—."

"Then we told Miss Prince we were waiting for you, Mary MacKenzie."

"Mary, don't—!"

Mary turned to look at the voice she recognized and suddenly stumbled back. Richard Cole held a large and rounded piece of silver in his hands, and the moment Mary's eyes set upon it she felt an ethereal tug in its direction. She planted her feet firmly on the ground and tried to tear away her gaze but her eyes remained firmly locked on it as Cole approached, a wicked smile gracing his handsome features.

"Lovely to see you again. You must have extraordinary luck to have found me and mine so quickly, Miss MacKenzie."

Mary's knees buckled involuntarily. She hadn't blinked since setting her eyes on the thing. Her mind felt warped, foreign and alien all the same. Her fists clenched and she set her jaw. "Well..." she managed. "Next time, dannae... put yer secret lair... in the fucking wine cellar!"

"Clearly it'll be the first place you Scots look. I'm glad it worked out this way." Cole stopped several feet away from Mary. Mary suddenly shivered, and realized through her stupor that she still had the saw in hand. "Miss Prince didn't take as well to the Apple as you do. I guess her Sight makes it easier for her to rebuff the Apple's intrusions."

"Her... what?"

Cole smirked triumphantly. "What? You sent her into Auschwitz without knowing she's like me, that she can use the Apple? You're truly the most idiotic Assassin I've ever seen. Did those five years off do so much damage?" Cole held the Apple aloft. Mary felt her body shudder with the strange golden power it eluded. "I liked you better when we knew each other before—when you were a cutthroat, and never hesitated. That was the formidable woman I remember fighting alongside."

Mary's eyes flared with life, but the Apple kept her subdued. "I'm not... that person anymore!"

"We always remain the same, Miss MacKenzie. You taught me that."

"Naw... We always fight!"

Mary flung the saw towards the wall with all the strength she could muster, and it struck the concrete and the chain holding Katherine's right arm. In an instant Katherine grabbed the weapon and lobbed it at Cole, narrowly missing him by just a few feet, but she gave Mary time to leap upward and kick the Apple from his hand. Mary stumbled, felt her mind return, and quickly drew her sword to block Cole's incoming blow with his rapier.

"You're a fool if you think you'll escape from here!" he snarled.

Mary smirked. "I plan on following ye oot, Mister Cole. Ye were kind enough tae show us the way back in Vienna. Do a lady a favour, will ye?"

"If you were such a lady, I might consider it!"

Mary engaged Cole with enough ferocity that he was distracted from Katherine breaking her wrist to escape the second entrapment. When Katherine was free she shouted, and Mary tossed her gun to the younger Assassin just as she managed a lock with Cole.

But he wasn't finished. Cole put Mary between himself and the gun to prevent Katherine's inevitable shot at him, and he desperately lunged for the piece of silver rolling slowly on the ground. Mary saw him move and grabbed him, then managed to reach for the Apple herself.

"Mary!" Katherine called, and leapt forward.

The instant Mary's hand touched the Piece of Eden it erupted with golden light and splashed the room in bright, glowing gibberish that Mary didn't have a mind to understand. Her skull felt like it was about to explode, and her mind felt as if it was tearing itself to pieces. Cole was blasted back into concrete, narrowly missing one of his frothing victims. The people on the wall screamed like they were on fire, and soon Mary's echoed with theirs.

Katherine managed to tear the Apple from Mary's grasp, and the pain ended as quickly as it had come. Mary lay shivering on the ground, gasping and rocking. Katherine hovered over her companion, unsure of what to do until she felt Cole's hands wrest the Apple from her. He fled out the door as quickly as he could, and Katherine almost pursued him, but the way was blocked by an Assassin-hunter.

Mary managed to pull herself together and slowly came to her feet. Katherine fired shots at the advancing Assassin-hunter but he didn't fall, much like the one in London, except this one came forward with purpose that the other had sorely lacked. Just as he closed in, Katherine grabbed Mary's sword and swung. The Assassin-hunter activated a hidden blade as Katherine lopped their head from their neck. The head fell nearby and the body fell forward.

"Get up from that, you fucking freak," Katherine spat, and then hurried to the Scot. "Mary? Cole's getting away with the Apple. We have to go!"

Mary, clutching her head and Katherine's arm, managed, "Did ye... get the information?"

"Cole didn't count on us getting the better of him. He told me everything, and I'll tell you the moment we're safe!" Mary nodded slowly and let Katherine guide her forward. "It seems like you have some explaining to do, as well," added Katherine.

Mary's eyes closed. She felt hot, and she knew her body was feeling it; she was sweating all over. "As do ye... Katherine."


End file.
